


Blood | Vows

by Bananaboye



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Fantasy, I say werewolves but they pretty much just exist in here lmao, I’m so bad at titles aaaa dksmxksk, Leniver, M/M, Magic, Male Slash, Slash, Vampires, Werewolves, Yaoi, olilen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 43,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24571567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananaboye/pseuds/Bananaboye
Summary: Len comes from a family of singers;Oliver is an heir to his family name;both want to run awayfrom what their families had built—but will they be able to breaktheir Blood | Vows?
Relationships: Kagamine Len & OLIVER, Kagamine Len/OLIVER
Comments: 12
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,  
> For those who don’t know, this is a repost of my ongoing fic Blood | Vows. The first eighteen chapters were originally published on Wattpad, but was purged when my account was banned (I’m still salty about that). Now I’m moving to AO3 as my main platform, so here I am.
> 
> Please enjoy :)
> 
> (This chapter was originally published in early February 2020)

Len sat on the window-seat, his face half-planted onto the cloudy plastic as he gazed blankly into the great blue. He ignored the crying babies, the shuffling sound of people and carts bustling through the narrow middle-isle. Len had ridden on planes before, more than a few times actually, but this was his first time on economy-class—and honestly, it wasn't all that bad—If you could discount the constant bumping with random people, bland food, and noise that would surely drive you to the depths of insanity.

_But I guess that's just how it works. And I would still much rather this than—_

"We will shortly be landing at Lunden Airport," said the radio voice, "Please fasten your seatbelts, open the window shades, and return your seat to its upright position."

Len yawned then returned to his thoughts.

It was his own wish.

"Mum—"

"Yes, Len, I know," she had said smilingly, "No fancy-schmancy first-class ride or five-star hotel... right?"

Len had nodded with a faint, ignorant smile.

Soon, the plane landed, and after another seemingly endless stretch of waiting and walking and rubbing shoulders with complete strangers, Len was finally out of the airport, breathing in the new cold, moist air. Much different from home, but not dislikable. He scanned the new surroundings; walls, buildings were made of some yellow or grey stone, in some strange medieval architecture he'd only seen in movies before.

He took his first step into this new world before him, bracing himself for the wave of novelty that never quite came—at least, not quite as intense as expected.

_Those movies really make them look much more dramatic than they really are, huh?_

Disappointed, Len waved for a taxi and gave the driver the address of his new home. A small and cozy apartment, his family had told him. But when his family had tried to show him a photo, he had declined. _I don't want to see it till I get there, after all._

Len smiled as he watched out the window, for an instant they passed his new school, Inglund National School. He was going to go for something more rural, but his family wouldn't have any of it.

"No, your education is still top priority." Mum had said. "Besides, it's already a public school, isn't that enough?"

Len sighed, _well, at least I'll be able to blend in more here... I hope._

Soon enough, Len finally arrived at his apartment. For a moment, alarms ran in his head, he had never lived alone before, and never-ever in such a small room.

Heck, it looked as if he couldn't even bring anyone to visit for its sheer teenyness.

It was fifty square meters.

Len placed down both of his suitcases, and began unpacking. When he was done, he fell himself tiredly on the windowside sofa. He watched the ants, the people below scuttle around for their own private reasons, and the cars that danced flawlessly with the traffic rules and whatnot.

A kernel of curiosity began to sprout in Len's heart.

Unable to hold in his urge, he leapt off his seat, left his tiredness and darted straight for the door, straight for the excitement below.

Amongst the crowd Len's head turned on every little stimulus, the laugh of a group of friends, the sound of dripping water from a dark alley, and the fluttering flap of a goldfinch's wings as it whizzed past. The last one surprised Len, but it left him with a lingering smile.

After a while Len ultimately decided to check out his new school. He rushed back to his apartment, hastily changed to the new white-red uniform, then rushed back to the entrance he saw when riding the taxi, bumping into a couple random strangers that all seem to give little care. The campus was huge with two large stone buildings, connected by a bridge on the second floor, arching over an entrance to what seemed like the oval.

He took his first step in and immediately, a posh lady's voice had called out to him, "Oh, you,"—Len flinched.—"You're the new student here, if I'm correct?"

"Y-yeah, Ka—" Then he remembered, given name comes first, "Err... Len Kagamine."

The woman smiled, "Nice to meet you, you may call me Mrs Prima. Come with me," she said before walking off to the right—the building.

Len ran up after her with a grin, and immediately she put out a light giggle, "You are excited aren't you?"

He answered with a plain nod, and followed her in, made a left, went through the hallway, up the stairs, and round a u-turn, and another right, and— _I can't remember all this on my first day!_

In a state of internal panic, everything whizzed by and in no time, he was already in Mrs Prima's office.

"Now," she sat opposite to Len, on the black wheeled chair, "here's your school diary, and your timetable," she said, placing them on Len's side for him to see.

Len nodded.

"Any problems with having tomorrow as your first day?"

Len shook his head.

"Well, great then." But just as she was about to send him out, "Oh, I almost forgot, here's your locker key," she said, holding it in her hand as if it were some sort of magical, miraculous item that needed extra extra care.

Len nodded plainly.

"That's all for today, if you need any help tomorrow, don't hesitate. Feel free to come and ask." She forced a smile before returning to her library of files and paperwork. _Blegh._

When Len was finally alone, he sighed. _Like I'll be able to even navigate around this damned place._

Sure his house was probably bigger. But even there he only knew where half the rooms were—and he still had his fair share of—err, wrong turns. After painstakingly navigating his way through the maze he terrifyingly would have to get used to, Len found himself on the oval. On the right was a group of people playing some sort of tennis, and on the left were players starting up a soccer game.

Naturally, Len went for soccer.

He approached the group, and putting forward his best assertive voice, he spoke up, "Can I, uh, play a game with you guys?"

The largest, burliest of them turned to look at him, then made a semi-reluctant nod. Len had only occasionally played sports before, resulting in his body being far less than adequate—to his own expectations. He was thin, essentially a living stick, with skin so smooth, spotless it reflected his upbringing.

Len wanted something more manly. Perhaps some abs, a bit of bicep muscles, something to give him material.

After all, what's a _seme_ who isn't masculine. (And Len was pretty sure that was – or would be – his preference.)

The visible reluctance brought him down further, but he wasn't going to give up just yet. _I'll show them that I can play, then they'll let me in their clique._

But of course, it wasn't that easy. Len learned the hard way that keeping the ball for more than three seconds was much harder than it looked.

_Dammit_ , Len cursed to himself as he watched brown-hair green-eyes run off gracefully with the ball he just so shamefully lost.

"Good work, Stee!" someone called out, "Keep trying, new kid, you'll get there."

"Here!" Muscular Blonde Man shouted.

"Block him!"

"Guard the goal!"

And before he could realise what was going on, the ball was yet again with him. "Come on, new kid!"

His heart pulsed, time slowed, and for an intense moment, his senses peaked. He heard the loud thump and scratch of shoe on grass, then swiftly dodged the blocker before kicking the ball with all his strength.

The others watched in amazement as the shoot blazed through, missed the goalkeeper's gloves by barely an inch. They roared, and Len kept silent.

_Did I just—_

"That was amazing!" one of them exclaimed.

Then Len felt a jolt as another one slapped him on the shoulder. "Say, what was your name?" It was the brown-haired-green-eyed boy from before.

"Len Kagamine," he answered rather embarrassedly.

"Ya know," Tall Guy spoke, and everyone went quiet, "those moves ya did. Kin'na reminded me of Big Olivah."

Len almost cringed at the nickname. "Big...Oliver?"

"Yeah, he's always doin' it real big for us, ya know. Carri'd our team through the national junior league last year. We made that nickname up in junior school so it kin'na got stuck with us, yeah."

"Said he got som'thin to do with studyin', so he quit," he shrugged, "wouldn't know nothin' 'bout that."

And only then did he finally decided to give his name. _Oh yes, that would have probably been useful in the game._

"The name's Rock."

_Okay, what kind of parent calls their kid Rock?_

"L-Len." He stumbled, unable to think of anything else to answer.

Then Len felt another hand on his shoulder—it was the same boy. "His real name's Rocky," he explained in a semi-whisper, "but he doesn't like the 'y' 'cuz he thinks it sounds childlike, so he insists on us calling him Rock instead. I'm Steven by-the way." He flashed a good smile. "Oh, and, we're gonna shower now, you're welcome to join us if you'd like."

Len felt his face instantly heat up.

_Shower!? With other boys!?_

_Should I decline? Oh but it's such a great opportunity! Ack—did I just think that? What the hell's wrong with me._

_Even if I do go, how do I keep myself from getting hard with all those—_

_Aaah._

"Hey, Len, you okay?"

Len broke out of his trance, his already sweaty state masking his internal conflict. "Um, yeah... I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Len nodded. "I-I'll go home now," he muttered before running off school grounds, to his room where he could safely think about all this. In solitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ※ I've been working on this book for a couple months now (at the time of this chapter's [original] publishing). Naturally, it'll be quite a big one, so expect several 'OCs' to pop up here and there. Though, I'll be giving them more mundane, unimportant positions. This is still a Vocaloid fanfiction after all :D


	2. Chapter 2

"Get on it, class, chop chop chop," the teacher said with strict expression, as the students all bustled around the classroom, carrying microscopes and slides and toothpicks and all that stuff to their own tables.

Meanwhile, Len was still on his chair, unsure of where to even start. Internally, he was panicking,

_Should do something_

_But what do we do with those types of microscopes? I'm not used to that._

_And didn't she say something about pairing up?_

"Ah, Len," the teacher finally voiced, _phew_ , "Do you like Biology?"

Len nodded tentatively, "uh-aah."

"Great, you can work together with Oliver. I'm sure you two will make a great team."

_Oliver?_

_Like, THAT Oliver?_

Len jumped to a loud thump on his table, it was a microscope, and the one who put that there was—

"Nice to meet you, I'm Oliver," the boy said, smiling faintly.

Len blinked, he was taken aback, he had expected him to be bigger, brawnier, and more belligerent—like a more extreme version of that guy yesterday. But instead, he was the total opposite—rather small, modest, and polite. Sure, he could see some proof of the boy's sportiness: he had well shaped arms and legs... but it was not nearly enough for someone who supposedly carried a whole team through the nationals.

And, in fact, with that mildly plump face, honey golden eyes and enigmatic wrap of bandages, he would almost consider him adorable. _Maybe attractive?_

"I'm Len."

He smiled. His face shone so brightly, Len felt as if he could drown in the warm light. And yet it still wasn't blinding, just comfortable. Len felt his own turning into a smile.

"Let's do this."

"Ye-Yeah!"

**＊＊＊**

Lunchtime arrived earlier than expected. Messing around with lab kits were fun, but Len was more interested in the boy he was working with.

 _Was it a crush?_ Len wasn't sure just yet, but what he did know was that the boy interested him.

"Hey, Oliver!" Len called out, catching up to him with an expectant smile, "Can I come with you?"

The boy looked reluctant, but after a quick glance to his side, he agreed with a nod.

Excited for having made his first in-class friend, Len followed him closely with a satisfied smile, watching his figure from behind him—his neck, his arms, his— _oh stop that, Len, you're being creepy!_

Finally out of his trance, he saw, Oliver waved to almost every other person they passed, and then, with a dropping heart, he realised, _He's really popular too!_

After a while, Oliver stopped. And suddenly, Len found himself at a particularly large table, merged from two smaller ones, surrounded by at least a dozen other boys and girls. While the mix of genders in the table had puzzled him, the atmosphere scared him. It was incomprehensible, like a mix of hope, fear, and competition, laced with a bit of creepiness, and even then he wasn't sure he got them all.

He saw Oliver chatting with them. It looked like he was having fun—but something was still undeniably off. It was then he noticed the fiddling, suspicious-looking brunette on the left, Steven... _I think._

"Hey," Len called out to him.

"Yo!" He waved, "I see you've met him," he smiled, cocking his head towards Oliver.

"Yeah."

"What do you think?"

Len couldn't think of anything that wouldn't sound either weird or condescending.

"Unexpected?"

"Yeah, kinda thought he'd be more... bulky," Len explained, "coming from what, uh, Rock said yesterday."

"That's understandable." He folded his arms above his head as he looked to the side, presumably avoiding eye contact, "say, are you gay?"

_What?! Where did that come from?!_

"Sorry, a little too blunt?" But he didn't look sorry at all, "you see, most the boys here are either out of the closet, or suspected. Eventually, rumours spread about Oliver having a gay magnet of some sort. It's stupid, I know..."

_Then why did you ask?!_

"Anyway, look forward to getting to know you," he smiled, holding his hand out in a seemingly innocent gesture. Len took it—and for a lightning instant he shivered, felt it cold. Len looked into the opposite boy's eyes, a normal, yet chilling stare—then the competitive atmosphere flushed back around him.

Len froze. But soon after, when he was ready to reassess the situation, all trace of malice had gone from him. Instead, the usual grin on his face made him look rather friendly, as he was on their first meeting. The others chattered around, occasionally glancing or inching towards Oliver, who seem to always notice them and smile and wave. But when Len tried to do the same, the boy kept still. It was then he felt a pang of jealousy hit him, like a bullet into his beating heart—a bullet that stays lodged in there and grows for every passing second his minor advances were ignored.

 _Uh-huh, it's a crush,_ Len sighed, sitting himself down on a nearby chair. But even then it sounded strange. Len hadn't ever crushed on anyone on their first encounter. It was to the point he had considered himself to be the slow type of guy, the one who'd usually need some emotional connection before anything more would come out of any relationship. But there he was, envying the attention Attractive Blonde Stranger gave to others but not himself.

_I'm going to get to the bottom of this._


	3. Chapter 3

"Oliver! Oliver! Look! Did it!" Len grinned from ear to ear, having successfully, cleanly taken the frog's heart out in their dissection class.

Oliver flashed him a convincing smile,

_Ugh, why is he so annoying?_

"That's great," he told him, putting a thumbs up. But really, he wasn't too excited for it, much less proud. Oliver knew he could easily, with his eyes closed, do what Len had done, and in barely half the time. Len took five minutes.

Honestly, he didn't even know why he was being nice to the new kid. For the last two months, he literally just straight up wiggled his way into his group, and started hanging around Oliver every time he had the chance.

He knew what that meant. And he knew it very well. That annoying banana-haired boy had a crush on him, and he did not like it. Not one bit.

 _I didn't even try to charm him, though!_ Oliver complained for the twenty-first time that month. _Just when I have my hands full, I get someone who just—has a crush on me? How am I going to handle that?_

"Oliver, Oliver!" Len called out to him again. This time, with a worried expression. Oliver plastered his smile back before asking what was wrong, to which he quickly replied with, "You've been zoning out a lot." he looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he brushed it off before taking the scalpel off of him, roughly, and worked his magic on the half-butchered frog. Within five minutes, all the organs had been plattered skilfully onto the watchglass, and the frog was still struggling, half-conscious as the inevitable slowly closed in.

Beside, Len's eyes were sparkling in awe, and had Oliver had a free pass for his action's consequences, he would punch this boy, fully on his head, for the sake of it.

"Amazing!" he cheered so childishly. Oliver eyed him with newfound envy, he let his mind wonder of how he could still be alive at this point with such a personality.

After all, his parents would certainly kill him if he acted like that. They were close enough once, when he hesitated finishing that girl off when he was twelve.

"Kill her!" Mum had commanded as Dad and Brother watched quietly, marking his every move, "It isn't hard, bare your fangs and bite her neck."

Oliver had stayed still; tears escaped his eyes as he weighed upon his choices: the girl's life, or his sanity.

Turns out, he got to keep his sanity, for when Dad had lunged to him for his pathetic, worthless inaction, a sudden surge of dark aura overcame him and he lost control. Then he watched from inside his own shell as it brutally murdered the defenseless victim, limbs torn apart and extra blood wastefully pouring down the floor after the meal.

Once he had regained control, the experience left him shaking, shivering in fear and in pain. But when he had looked up to see, he could remember, in the cloud of murk were his mother's ecstatic smile and his father's eyes of pride and hope. It was the only time they had been proud of him. So Oliver disregarded the effect it had and sought for more of it. (Though, he still kept the dirty-work to the Other.)

Then as he thought of pride, the image of his brother's soul-shackling sneer appeared again, it was glowing darkness. He truly hated him. While his demands were plenty, nothing Oliver ever did seemed to please him. Not a kill, not a gift, not even the tremendous effort Oliver invested to get him to smile for—

Len's bright face popped into sight. _Oh for Count's sake_. "Oliver, sure you're really okay?"

"Yes," Oliver exhaled, "you can stop worrying about me now."

_That came out a bit too harsh. But maybe it's what I need to get him off my tail._

_Even then it feels wrong._

"Okay." He nodded with his unfaltering smile. Then, as the teacher readied to dismiss the class, "Nee Oliver, can we, y-you know, walk to the refectory together again?"

_Okay, maybe not._

"You are going to follow me anyway so..." Oliver took a deep breath, "why not."

But it looked like the reaction wasn't what Len was going for.

**＊＊＊**

After school, Oliver stayed late. It was 4:30, everyone else had gone home, but he was still sitting idly in-front of his locker, waiting for—

"Oliver!" A boy's voice called in something that resembled both a shout and a whisper.

But he didn't greet him as he usually did – with a cheery smile and a wave – rather, he bit his lip,

 _such a shame_ , he mentally sighed.

"You okay?" Steven asked.

Oliver simply nodded, then forced a little smile. "Let's go."

As Oliver led the boy to his trap, he let his mind roam free, _what if he's with me now instead? That new kid?_

For some reason that thought alone had brought his pulse to a race, of fear? Of some unknown feeling. No, not love. Oliver would know love in a heartbeat; after all, he IS able to charm people fairly easily...

_Then what is it?_

It was best for him to forget about it now. But keep an eye on him just in case.

Oliver's eyes suddenly widened. Half-expecting for Len to suddenly bounce in his vision and ask if he were alright. But of course, that would be stupid... Oliver looked to his present company. They'd been ignoring each other for the whole walk. To think they'd been dating for a week, and that Steven had been so looking forward to tonight... it seemed so fundamentally wrong.

And yet Oliver preferred it this way. It's much easier to get the job done when you don't feel any real connection. Easier, and less mental aftermath to deal with. Perfect.

Oliver pushed the gate open and let the boy in, gaze in amazement at the staggering construct before him—one of the largest in the world, Efex Castle.

"Come on," Oliver took the boy's hand and seductively smirked at him, dragging him into a room on the third floor. As he locked the door, he slowly unwrapped the bandages around his left eye.

Steven trudged forward, shakily, the tent between his leg growing visibly tighter with every step—and Revilo was _not_ about to not take advantage of that.

**＊＊＊**

Oliver returned. Feeling full, lighter, and still somewhat guilty. He stared at the carcass and his blood-drenched hands with shivering eyes; his heart pulsed and then there was the clap and song from Darkness—Mum, Dad, and Brother, congratulating him for his sixteenth birthday—and his hundredth solo kill.


	4. Chapter 4

Len held a hand on his clenching heart, the surging, swirling sound of water running in the background. _How do I get him to notice me? Does he not like me after all? Am I no better than everyone else in that group?_

 _Of course not,_ the growing voice from the corner of his mind answered, _what makes you any more special?_

Len wasn't used to this. He thought this was what he wanted—to be just like everyone else, a normal person—but he also wanted Oliver to notice him, to love him back, to find him special.

"God, I'm such a fucking mess." He sighed, hammering the wall beside him before shutting the water flow, exiting the bathroom with a dissatisfied linger.

"What's wrong?" A familiar female voice asked—It was Luka, and beside her was Gumi, the 'weird girl'. Though Len never cared much about any of that.

Len sighed again, "You know...." He looked away.

Len had on their previous encounter told them about his crush on Oliver. After all, they had presented themselves as trustworthy, and Len really really needed someone to confide to.

It was either that, or he'd blow up and burn out.

Luka placed her hand on his shoulder, and like a mother, she lectured him with a concerned smile, "if he doesn't like you back, then maybe you should stop. I know it's not easy, but try to get your mind on something else."

Gumi nodded plainly, "it... for the best," she spoke in her usual monotone voice.

Len smiled, then nodded at their platitudes. On the front, he wanted to agree, they were being nice, and declining seemed too disrespectful. But he's thought of this dozens of times before, and he couldn't just discard those feelings—for Oliver!—Len has had crushes before, so he knew the feeling well, but Oliver's was different—it was stronger! More intense! Sometimes painful, but he didn't even want that to go away. As if even the pain was worth holding on to.

"It's your choice," she retracted her hand, arched her brows, "but remember, if you need any help, call us."

Those last words left Len worried. He stayed as the two disappeared into the female's. Then he leaned on the wall to ponder for another moment. _She said it so seriously. Does she really know that I'll have no chance with him?_

After mulling for long enough – and with a painful headache – Len returned to class, sat himself back on his seat. The teacher's words slowly garbled to background noise, and it wasn't long before his thoughts drifted back to Oliver on the other side of school. Grades be damned.

**＊＊＊**

While walking to his locker, Len spotted Oliver, and a redhead, walking out of their class. They were chatting energetically, and Oliver was smiling.

Len caught up anyway. "Hey," he waved. They stopped, but Oliver just gave him a cold look and a feeble wave back, before returning his gaze to his other companion. _Well, at least that's something._

The redhead looked at him, then looked away as if something had clicked in his mind. Then he leaned to Oliver's ear and whispered something. Something that left him a light blush he tried to hide from the both of them.

Len was confused, but not disheartened. He's seen Redhead before at lunch, and from what he'd seen, the clowny boy had probably been the least advancive of the bunch.

 _Maybe that blush was for me?_ The one in thousand chance kept Len hopeful.

Then reality hit him in the face once more when they left him wordless. Disappeared into the locker room crowd. Defeated, yet still hopeful, Len refitted the backpack behind him before leaving for home.

The sky was blue-orange, and with the day-by-day thickening blanket of snow on the ground, the sight still held Len breathless. He strode along with his winter trousers, with his hands huddled together for warmth, and watched into the houses—the little children in the households, setting up the Christmas trees, still green in their leaves—but they were all dead.

Yet, there was one family, out in the evening, under a magnificent pine, getting their decorations out, smiling, laughing together. The sight brought Len to a stop. And made him remember the moments when he was with his own family. _I miss that._

Of course, Len's family wasn't perfect, but Len loved them regardless. His mother always cared for him, his father's always been tolerant to his differences, and his twin, Rin. No two fraternal twins that looked so alike could be so different, yet they had mostly gotten along with each other fairly well. (With a couple few fights here and there. But Len tended to forget them.)

Sometimes, Len wondered if what he did was right, leaving them like that for school abroad, just to live a different life. He felt selfish, but deep inside he knew, he could not continue living life like a celebrity—as the son and sibling of celebrities. Every fan encounter had drained his energy, his life, and the constant stream of good things simply desensitised him to their supposed luxurious pleasure, made it none the better. _Well, we can still talk to each other so I guess it still works_. He sighed, then hurried off back home to his apartment.

Len closed the door, threw his headset to the bedside, then fell back on his bed, tired from the day's events. He thought of Oliver. How it would be like to be family with him. To be together. His heart pulsed, oh does he want that so much.

_Oliver..._

Len closed his eyes, ran his hand over the sensitive bulge. Len shivered lightly, and enfeebled by the gratifying shockwave of tingling sensation that swept over him, he panted in the twilight. "Oh, Oliver."

* * *

** Diary Entry #1 | Len ** ** **

25 Dec 2000 Weather: Partly Cloudy

It's christmas. Celebrated the usual way, with a christmas tree and a lot of fried chicken. Everyone seems to be doing great. Rin's not as upbeat as usual but I don't think it's anything to worry about. Wonder how Oliver's doing? Just had a dream about him last night. Can't remember much, but dreamt he was here with us. Know it's impossible, he has his own family and has many other friends... Guess it's just hope.

Can't wait to meet Oliver again.


	5. Chapter 5

_No, No, I can't do this!_

_I can't like him!_

Oliver slammed his head onto the desk, earning the attentions of a surprised teacher, and a few other unexpecting students.

"Are... you okay?" The teacher asked. Oliver had never before acted abnormally at school, let alone in class. Everyone knew him to be the smart, social kid of the year group, that one 'perfect' kid with straight A's, a talent in sports, and somehow, a lot of dates.

Oliver looked back up and nodded. "Sorry. Won't happen again," he assured with a bright smile.

_Hopefully._

_I can't stop these annoying feelings._

The teacher simply nodded before returning to her lecture.

After class, a bunch of students, some 'friends', some who he was barely acquainted to, crowded him,

"What happened?" One concernedly asked.

"Did the trig finally get to you?" Another joked in an attempt to lighten the situation.

Oliver kept his composure, "I just feel a bit sick is all," he answered before walking past the crowd with eyes averted from anyone's curious gaze, desperately searching for solitude—where he could sort this all out. In the end, he settled for the male bathroom. But as soon as he entered, the boy he saw standing before the urinal was none other than that damned crush of his.

_What's he doing here?_

"O-Oh, hey Oliver!" He called out with that dumb, dorkish smile on his face. Oliver tried to hold back a cringe. _That guy's either too self-absorbed, or too ignorant for his own good_. And in the awkward moment, he debated on whether to flee for his life, or punch that idiot on his face where he deserved it. He went for the former, but only because he didn't want to get detention.

Panting, out of breath, Oliver arrived back at the table. He sat himself on the nearest couch and inhaled deeply. _Try to act natural. Try to act natural._

"You've been acting weird." _Fukase_.

"Really?" Oliver tried to keep up the act. Taking another betraying deep breath in.

He nodded with a smirk, "Don't tell me it's that boy—the new boy."

Oliver's eyes widened, but before Fukase could see, he shook his head convincingly. "N-No! I barely know him," he said, furrowing his brows.

"Really. 'Cuz I've seen him with you. More than a couple times."

Oliver kept still, "That's nothing. You know he's not the only one."

"Well, then I look forward to his turn." He sneered. Oliver froze. This time his eyes sharpened, fear engulfed. The image he had banished from his mind popped back: of him feeding on Len—under his brother's orders. Len's feeble, fear filled face. his neck and deep bite wound, dripping with the remnants of his fresh-red blood. His lifeless body, consumed by darkness, half-leaning on the wall, his shrivelled limbs splayed on the floor.

_I can't let that happen._

The red-haired joker chuckled menacingly. "Don't worry, I won't tell him," He put up a smile, but to Oliver, it looked more like a sneer, "when it's still so fun to watch."

That last sentence sent a shiver down his spine. It just meant that Fukase would tell him, anytime he sees fit. But anytime is not never. And Oliver can never let that happen.

So he narrowed his eyes, then fought to argue, "Make that you won't tell him ever."

"Giving me orders now huh?" he scoffed, "I'm afraid you're a few years too early, Ollie."

"Besides," he continued in his excessively smoothened voice, "I'm already doing you a favour,"

Oliver clicked his tongue. Glared at his 'best friend'. Sometimes he wished that Fukase would be more reliable, even in a bad way. At least then he could more easily stay alert and avoid him and not feel bad.

_You know what, I shouldn't feel bad anyway._

_It's a bit too late now though, don't you think?_

Oliver closed his eyes. Took another deep breath. He knew that Silence was the best answer.

* * *

**Diary Entry #2 | Oliver**

12 January 2001

Dear Diary,

So Fukase found out about my crush on Len. He's not telling Yohio yet but he might tell him soon so I need to figure something out fast!

Also, on another note, Len's been more how do you say it? clingy around me lately. It's getting hard to ignore him like this. When my heart's literally screaming at me to tell him how much I like him back. I mean, we were at our PE class, and he kept bloody checking me out. Not that I don't do it too but \/\/\/\/\\\\\/\

Sorry, I was just frustrated. Right where was I? Like I said, it gets hard to focus on what you need to do when your crush is literally staring at your body. Why can't he just get that we can't be together ugh If only he'd just accept it and move on.

Ugh, this fucking world hates me doesn't it? Bloody hell

Sorry, excuse my language.

~~P.S. Len is hot.~~


	6. Chapter 6

"See ya!" Len waved as the brunette disappeared into the car, his hand waving back from behind the black window. Only after did Len put out a heaved sigh. He leaned on one of the benches, watched as the snowstorm continued to rage ever harder.

_Should I wait it out?_ he pondered, _or can I tough it out?_

Of course, the alternative of calling some sort of taxi service was always there, but Len had never needed one since he first got here – except for that first day, which doesn't count – and he wanted to keep up the streak, for the sake of it.

Besides, I won't have much to do at home anyway.

So Len waited the hour, he put on his headphones, leaned back further, and as he closed his eyes, he finally let himself free into the rhythm.

When the storm subsided, the sky was already in deep orange. With a loud huff, he dashed out the school grounds, trudged through the ankle-deep snow. But suddenly, as he panted, walked through the quiet, penultimate street, he was stopped by a barely-audible muffled scream and blood-splitting sound. Len quickly jerked his head. In a dark alley. His heart racing, he reached for the cellphone in his pocket, readying himself to call emergency services at any notice.

Step. Step. Stop.

_What do I do?_

Under some inexplicable impulse, he neared the scene, hiding behind every small obstacle he could find. His brain kept screaming for him to run, but his heart bade for him to get closer. As if it could feel something it couldn't comprehend.

Len trod quietly, carefully past a couple tin cans, plastic wrappers, and other whatnots. Then he flinched. He caught something. His head turned to his left. Past a structure of crates, he could faintly see a low-moving shadow, eerily swaying on the blue-illuminated background.

Len peeked from the edge. And with his eyes wide in horror, he could see two figures on the bed of snow, one atop the other.

_Rape?_

_No, they seem clothed._

The dark-haired figure moved, but his head stayed stuck onto the victim's neck. Len saw as the girl's face slowly shrivelled, as though her life was slowly being siphoned by the murderer above her.

_What is happening?_

_Who cares! Run away!_

But just as Len was about to turn, the figure moved again—shakily stood, and slowly, as he did something to his face, the jet-black of his hair transformed into a familiar golden blonde. Len's heart raced, his vision blurred and cleared in a pulse. He blinked a few times, then pinched himself—it wasn't just a nightmare.

_There's no way. No way is he—!_

But there was no doubting it, under that mask of blood, it was definitely—

"Oliver?" Len took a shaky step forward. The boy jumped, he looked at Len, then the girl, then Len, then the body.

"Oliver..."

He flinched this time, but before Len could fully register everything, the boy roughly buried the carcass and fled. However in the instant Len noticed, tears were streaming down his face as he past.

For a moment Len stayed still. His feelings rushed around and for an instant he questioned his feelings for him when he didn't even know him at all.

Ultimately, Len darted after him. He followed him tirelessly, calling desperately for his name, for him to stop, but the boy couldn't hear. Or even if he did, he made no sign of it.

Finally, after a long enough run, Len arrived at the castle. And after staggering for a moment at its size, and another two at the fact that Oliver lived there, he rushed in. Inside, Len made no notice of the grand fountains and marble statues and gold plated fences as he ran past. He had only one thing in mind.

_I need to get to him!_

Seeing the front door open, Len hastened reflexively, but was stopped shortly after by Oliver's slamming. Len tried them, but no luck—they were locked. He took a few steps back, and with his resolve burning within him, he swore to find another way in.

_I've come this far for him, no way am I giving up!_


	7. Chapter 7

Oliver ran to his bed. Met it face first. Crying, weeping. He rubbed his eyes on his arms. Then hammered the bed in frustration.

_Why?!_

_Of all people._

_Why does it have to be him?_

Being found out by someone. That wasn't his first time. Dealing with humans isn't hard. A quick slash from his sharpened nails or a rough bite of his fangs would render them... well, practically dead. But Len? Even hurting him was out of the question. _But I can't just let someone walk around knowing about me. Dad'd be furious. And what are the chances that—_

Oliver's heart ached. His senses phazed. Clouded. _Len won't like me anymore_ , he thought. No, he was sure of it. After all, what kind of human would date a cursed child-of-the-devil like him.

Oliver cried, "I'm such a horrible—"

Sure, he hadn't been planning to date him anytime _soon_. But he had been trying to hold the feelings out for when he'd be old enough, strong enough. After all, he won't be bound to them then, so he might have a chance.

_Will he tell anyone? Oh please don't._

Oliver trembled as he dug himself further into the pit of fear. He constructed narratives, the possibilities: How Len would tell everyone and how he'd be physically forced to kill him. How Len would fear him and refuse to be near him anymore... _Maybe he'd move away. What if he starts trying to kill me? Or turn me in?_

_Oh god what if he's a werewolf? Or what if he's a vampire too?_

_No, no. You're thinking too much. He can't be a vampire. He doesn't act like one. But werewolf? What if he'd known I was a vampire all along and had been planning to kill me by first trying to get my guard down?_

_Okay now that's completely absurd. I should stop thinking._

_But then won't I be dead?_

_Ugh._

_I guess I'd let him kill m—_

_Okay stop! No more! No more!_

In frustration, Oliver swung his head up and looked out the window. His heart raced. Outside was the yellow-haired boy, with his glowing skin and lovely radiant smile. And his eyes, sparkling, showed care, concern, not a trickle of fear nor hatred nor any contempt from what he had just witnessed.

Oliver's tears slowed. Just seeing him there, looking into his eyes, his smile. A bright ray of hope—flushing out the dark fear that had possessed him. He opened the window, and waved for him to come in.

_Oh, who's the excited one now?_

_Shut it!_

Len gratefully, and relievedly, took the invitation. Oliver pat the bed beside him, and after nodding once, Len took his seat.

Oliver clenched his jaw and fists, then his eyelids. He thought hard, but ultimately, all he could ask was... "Why?"

"What?"

"Why?" Oliver continued to tear, clutching the sides of the bed to restrain himself from embracing Len.

"Oliver..." Len sounded so thick. Oliver looked up to him, his hair glimmering in the moonlight. "I..." he breathed, then took a moment, "Let's just say I really like you."

_I know, but—_

"Why!?" Oliver burst this time, "you saw me didn't you? I killed someone. I'm a vampire."

"A vampire?" Len said, but his voice was still so caring, as if he knew all along, as if he was all ready to accept him whatever demon he happened to be— "so that's what you are." He was still smiling.

Oliver hesitantly nodded. "I-I killed her for the blood," he bit his lip, "Mum and Dad wouldn't feed me otherwise, so I was forced to."

He nodded. He opened his mouth, then paused for a moment, as if to ponder whether it was right to ask, "Why are you telling me all this?"

Oliver took Len's hand on the bed. "I—uhh..." And clenching it, as his heart felt, he finally confessed, "I like you too."

Oliver looked up. Len was crying too. But he was still smiling. Though it was wavering—to some flurry of expressions. "I'm—" He grinned and exhaled, visibly relieved, "I'm glad."

But Oliver frowned a bit. "How do you know I'm not lying? After all, this IS how I get over half of my victims. Attraction and all that." Oliver was surprised he even said all that, much less in a natural tone. Oliver's had a couple other close-ish human friends, and he had known them for much longer. Yet something about Len made him trust the boy more, something he still couldn't comprehend.

Len thought for a bit, but settled with a smile. "You don't tell them that you're a vampire—until you really need to kill them right?"

Oliver nodded.

And to that Len's smile grew bigger, "and you just finished."

"Then—how can you be so sure I'm already full. I could just be a big eater. Or I could just make you keep the secret for me until I'm hungry again." Oliver tried to argue. He wasn't so sure why. Maybe he wanted to make sure Len wouldn't regret this, but he already knew the truth.

"Well," his smile didn't falter, "I trust you."

"Huh?" Oliver tilted his head in confusion, and fixed him with a dead stare.

"My heart tells me to trust you. I can't describe it, I can't tell you why, but I know I can trust you."

Oliver sighed. _Such a Len answer._ "That's a bit risky, don't you think?"

Len shook his head. "Even if I'm wrong. I wouldn't regret it if you killed me," he told matter-of-factly.

"I would!"

"See?" Len giggled lightly, and only then did he realise, "You wouldn't've said that if you didn't care."

Oliver stayed silent with a pout. But then he heard Yohio call and the chill flushed back. Left—Right—Everything that belonged in the room was enshrouded by some dark, dark aura—purple black-ish dark?—it made him shiver, and his heart beat faster—but Len looked normal. And—so did Oliver's hand.

After the terror had lifted, Oliver made one last shiver; then, frowning, he turned back to Len with a terrified eye, "We can't. We can't be together." He shook his head violently.

"Why not?"

"My family. They'll never let us!"

"But they don't have to know," Len tried.

"They will." Oliver said, "They will know."

"Oliver..."

A second, louder call from Yohio clicked Oliver to emergency-mode. He pulled Len up and pushed him to the casement. "Run!" he whisper-shouted.

Len looked like he wanted to protest, but after an excruciatingly long few seconds of staring at each other, he ultimately gave in; quickly nodded and left. Oliver shivered again as the newly refound warmth fled.

The door blasted open. "Oliver! Didn't you hear me?"


	8. Chapter 8

Len ran from the castle with hesitation. He could not be caught... that – if Oliver's words were worth even the slightest bit – had to be true. But the desire never went away—how he still wanted to stay. To show them that their feelings are more powerful than whatever they may be capable of. That they will survive together. Just the two of them.

As much as a romantic Len considered himself to be, the truth was clear: if even Oliver were to turn on him, he'd be dead meat—let alone his whole bloodthirsty family.

But he wasn't just about to give up. He had just learned Oliver liked him back. And wasn't he already risking his life by following him there?

Len sighed as he opened the door to his room.

_If everything goes well, all will be solved by next afternoon. If we can be together, then I'm sure we'll be able to do anything._

He lied on his bed... then closed his eyes.

Len Kagamine—was an avid dreamer.

**＊＊＊**

Morning came like foul food on a sick day. And the glaring light: the revolting smell. Len hadn't realised he'd been so tired, coming home from Oliver's place. He suspected it was probably the long walk, but it could also just be everything that had happened the yesterday.

He exhaustedly changed to the white-red uniform, the image of Oliver's beautiful face the only thing that kept him going. He took his backpack up and carried it as usual, before walking off to school.

First two periods went by without anything worthy of note.

_After all, what interesting thing could happen without Oliver?_

But third and fourth periods were Physics. The subject itself would have been pretty boring; however, this was one of a couple classes he shared with Oliver, and that was reason enough for him to take a liking to it.

If only it helped him in actually learning the topics though. He still had no idea how electrical flow could have anything to do with magnet flow-thingy; _or, at least, that's how I remember it._

_Maybe Oliver can help._

He sat himself beside Oliver's usual spot in hope of being able to sit with him. The thought made Len restless, but alas, when Oliver entered the room, he looked at his spot, to Len, hid a light blush, then took the seat just across it.

_Ugh._

Len couldn't help himself. He took peeks, stole glances every ten seconds. And when he didn't, he'd contemplate on writing a note to pass. _No, we're seating in the front row. That won't work. But I still need to talk to him!_

Halfway through, when he was still gazing at the oh-so-charming vampire boy. He heard a sigh.

"Len." The teacher spoke, walking to his part of the table.

Len's head snapped to the board. "Y-Yes, sir."

His cold eyes fixed him. "Do you even know my name?"

The class oohed. Len blushed. _Was I really THAT obvious?_ "Mr Kiyoteru."

He nodded, and Len mentally let out a heaved sigh of relief.

"Please try to keep your attention on the board for the next few minutes. We are discussing something important."

Len nodded with a silent gulp.

"Alright, where were we?" He turned back, "We know that a coil, in the presence of a changing magnetic field, will generate a current."

_No, I don't._

"The opposite is also true..."

Notwithstanding his facial direction, Len's mind was already back at Oliver.

_How do I get him to talk?_

**＊＊＊**

"Oliver!" Len tried catch up to him, but he just dashed away at notice. Len watched his movements. They were rough, heavy.

"Oliver!" Len called again, and this time. _Success!_ The boy stopped in the quiet school garden. But he didn't look back.

"What?!" Oliver growled. Len flinched. But ultimately, overcome by guilt, he turned and apologised. "Sorry."

"Don't be!" Len replied in reflex. "You—you're just trying to protect me... aren't you?"

Oliver faced away again, confirming the truth. Len closed the final few steps between them and put his hand on his shoulder, but before he could say anything, Oliver roughly brushed it off his shoulder. "We can't be together, Len. Not—Not yet."

"Then, when?" He didn't want to come off as needy or whiny, but here he was. _Ugh, stupid, old—_

"I—unh" Oliver looked like he was trying to hold something back, a tremble, a clench of fists, a few tears, "I don't know."

"Oliver, please. I know we can do it."

"I don't want you to get hurt!" He suddenly flamed, turned to Len with streaming eyes.

"But you're getting hurt!"

"It's—I'm used to it."

"Oliver. I don't want you to get hurt either," Len pleaded, "please understand."

"Len..." he bit his lip, "it's my problem. I don't want you getting involved."

"It's our problem, Oliver." Len said with tempered resolve. He looked him in the eye. "Not being with you hurts me too. It won't hurt—if... if I know I can be with you."

Oliver sobbed, then shook his head. Len felt bad for putting Oliver in such a position, selfish even. But he believed this was for the best.

"Len—"

"Please, Oliver. I promise. We'll end this together."

Oliver silently cried, broke down, his body leaned against Len, his arms wrapped weakly around him, and his head rested on his shoulder. Len did what any caring friend would do. He hugged him back, and reassured him that everything would be okay.

To his delight, he could feel a light but definite nod on his shoulder. And pulling back, Oliver's eyes showed eagerness. He stood on tiptoe, placed his hands on Len's cheeks. Len was taken aback. His heart raced. He had not expected for Oliver to make an advance. But to him, it was more than welcome. Len leaned his head forward, and before he knew it, their lips met.

_Soft. So soft. Whole. Oliver._

They kept together, as Len let his hand roam from his back, to running through his smooth locks of hair. As they held each other closer in the embrace, Len could feel Oliver's pulses resonate in his chest. Len could feel them sync together. To the same beat, the same rhythm.

_Oliver. Oliver. Love._

After a few minutes, Oliver's lips trembled, and to that Len pulled away. He was still crying.

"I'm so..." he took Len's hands, "happy."

But Len noticed in the corner of his eye. A certain red-haired boy. Who looked at them, then walked away.

For a moment Oliver was back to worry. But then, shaking his head, he set that aside. Oliver smiled, gave Len his full attention. "Was that your first kiss?"

Len blushed, then nodded.

"You're a great kisser, y'know." Oliver grinned at his own tease. And now Len felt his face burn.

"You too." He awkwardly squeaked. To which Oliver giggled lightly before hugging him again.

"Thanks... Len."

Just beside in the flowerbed, the first couple snowdrops of the season had penetrated through the last layers of snow, flowering in hope of a brighter spring.


	9. Chapter 9

It was noon, and Len was restless in excitement. He waited under the shade of a pine tree and, to his delight, he could see Oliver, his beloved, running to him with such eagerness and radiant smile—

_Oliver!_

Len still couldn't believe it—to be with such a kindling boy. Sure, there were consequences he'd have to get to, but, just for the day, they had promised to throw it out the window to enjoy their first date.

"Len!" he called, waving his hand. At notice Len smiled and waved back. Yet, still, the dominant feeling inside him was fear, that something would go horribly wrong.

"Let's go!" Len took the boy's hand and dashed off. They had planned to go to the cafe, then watch a movie, and hopefully spend more time with each other until Oliver's curfew. _Five hours_ , Len thought, _Five hours to make this as perfect, memorable as possible._

Oliver was able to sense Len's unease, and with a light squeeze, he reassured him, "Len." He looked up to meet Len's concerned gaze. "It'll be alright."

Len put up a faint smile. But his worries had not ended. Oliver noticed it, and lightly smacked his back, "We'll have fun. You're the one who keeps telling me not to worry," he put on a grin, "So let's get going!"

The words lifted the weight on his heart, and now with a genuine smile, Len nodded. "Yeah."

**＊＊＊**

The two settled in a local café. Sat next to each other and by the window to take in the rare sunny weather. Oliver was looking out, pondering deeply about something. And Len was fixed on his food. No, not his own. Oliver's food.

A ham-and-cheese sandwich. Certainly nothing special, as it came from the café; which, to his knowledge, isn't run by blood-hungry vampires. Of course, he hadn't planned on inviting Oliver to lunch to see him eating a human in front of him—in fact, it didn't even cross his mind. But now that he was sitting here, looking at a definitely-vampire eating definitely-normal human food. It just felt weird.

Oliver seemed to pick up on this, as he giggled lightly with his mouth covered, explaining between his laughs, "We're human enough to eat human food, or rather, us vampires still need normal food too."

Len stared at him confusedly, "then why do you need human blood?"

"We don't need _human_ blood, just _blood_." Len tilted his head slightly, still confused. "But, human blood is best, apparently, so that's what we all default to."

"Have you ever had other animal's blood?"

He thought again, and again, and ultimately shook his head, "No, my parents made sure that I only eat human. They wouldn't even allow me to try others," he sighed, "It's stupid."

Len nodded. "But—"

Oliver stopped him with a wag of his finger, "my turn to ask," he said, nudging him. Len smiled and nodded.

"Why do you carry those all the time?" he asked pointing to the headphones around Len's neck. "I've never seen you actually use it."

"I—use it from time to time," he paused to recollect, "but—Can't really remember much, but my grandfather gave them to me when I was reaaaaally little. Ever since then, I just kept it... like, I wouldn't feel complete without it."

"M-hm." Oliver nodded blankly.

"So, why DO you need blood?" Len returned to his initial question, "if you could eat normal food."

Oliver shook his head, before landing it on Len's shoulder to think, "I—don't really know. Mum told me that there's this—essence that most living things could make. Something kinda like a life force. You can find it in all sorts of fluids: blood, sweat, and—cum," Oliver blushed as he whispered that word, "And us vampires can't make it for some reason so we have to get it from others."

Len took a moment to understand. "But what about those—err... other sources?" He lightly blushed.

"There's not nearly enough in sweat, and people can barely make any," he averted his gaze, "y'know... compared to blood."

Len nodded. But his mind went off to wander. _If we literally secrete our life force by sweating and cumming, can we die from jerking off too much?_

He needed to know. But—maybe he could ask that in a better time. Heck, they had been avoiding even the c-word like a rotten banana, spare them the awkwardness of actually asking a sexual question.

 _A kinky one at that,_ Len's mind went on to add.

_Shut up, brain!_

Oliver took Len's hands and intertwined their fingers. "What's your family like, Len?" He put out a half-hearted giggle, "can't be any worse than mine?"

Len thought about his mum, his dad, his sister. Then he nodded, "Pretty good, actually."

Oliver stayed quiet.

"Let me do what I want most the time. They were disappointed when I told them I didn't want to be a singer like them, but they never really," his thoughts were back to Oliver's, "forced me."

Oliver blankly nodded.

"Rin, my twin, would always bring it up. Just to annoy me. Usually ends with laughter so it's not that much of a deal—" Len was stopped by a mumble from Oliver.

"they.... they're great huh?"

Len nodded with slight hesitation. "Yeah—" But before he could say anything else, Oliver shook his head and wrapped his farther arm over Len's. Len was shocked by his sudden movement but accepted it; though, he was still concerned, "Oliver?"

"I-I'm fine." He exhaled deeply, "just a bit distracted 's all," he said, reaching up, then placing a whole kiss on Len's cheek. "I love you."

Len returned the kiss, then stopped by his ear to whisper, "I love you too, Ollie."

After the exchange, the two were left a blushing, stuttering mess. Nothing too uncomfortable; just enough to sustain that awkward romance Len had dreaded.

And after they were done, they went straight to the nearest theatre. _After all, what's a date without a movie?_ Len had thought, those romance novels and series came straight to mind.

They made sure to steer clear from any Vampire romance... or any vampire movies in general. Since that would be really awkward. In the end, they went for some local kids animation that was really meant for eight-year-olds, but advertised to be PG-13. Len enjoyed it, but Oliver had to ask questions every other moment to just barely understand what was happening. Although, he was starting to get used to it by the end.

The movie ended just after four, and soon, they had to walk to Oliver's home. (Of course, Len had intended to squeeze just as much time as he could with Oliver. And he seemed to be content with it.)

They talked on and on, about Len's friends back in Jeppan, Fukase, and Oliver's weekly blood quota he has to fulfill. The last one Len found was a weird conversation, and one that Oliver was fully eager to change from. However, just as soon as Len was about to start a new one, a flash of brown and white covered his vision and he could feel wetness on his arm. He looked. Blood. But it wasn't his.

Oliver held his left arm—bleeding—then he unwrapped his eye-bandage, and used it to stop the blood from pouring. _Vampires bleed too,_ Len's back-of-the-mind decided it was right to whisper, _another thing to muse me when I get bored,_

Len looked to the attacker, a young-looking but scruffy man with the arm of a beast, and claws ungodly, covered in Oliver's blood.

"What was that for?" Len asked in his sudden wave of bravery, though really his brain was screaming for him to take Oliver and run. He did NOT want any of them to die just yet. _No. No. NO!_ So why was he doing this?

"Get away from him." The man merely said, pointing to Oliver with his hairy, furry arm.

Len immediately shook his head, extended his arms to protect Oliver, "No way!"

"You don't understand the situation!" he growled, "He's trying to kill you!"

Len kept his tense expression, but then he felt Oliver's hand on his arm, pushing it down and away. "Let me handle this, Len." He glared at the attacker, "I don't want you to get hurt."

"But—"

Oliver stepped forward, his hair phased to black, and his claws sharpened to a deadly weapon. Len could almost feel a powerful, dark aura emanating from him—washing through, past. It was then Oliver looked back with his red left eye, "Len, go home."

He could feel his heart beat, his breaths—and sweat, wet, trailing down his face. "Oliver..."

"Whatever, just go somewhere safe."

"I won't leave you in the face of danger!"

"Oh, come on, I could deal with—" the rest of his speech blurred into noise. The man had lunged to attack and Len leapt forward on instinct. After—all black—he couldn't tell—just a mess of 'help him!', 'sorry', 'idiot!', and cries that he hated to hear. And that pain on his shoulder and head. Only suppressed by a strange feeling of satisfaction.


	10. Chapter 10

Waking up in the hospital was not something Len felt he could get used to. Pain creeped throughout his entire body, and the reeking of medicine made it none the better. He could hear wails from dozens of rooms away, and the atmosphere was just plain sickly.

Len opened his eyes; immediately he was greeted by a rather darkened face with ominous grey hair. He looked genuinely concerned, but if memory served him right, that man had no right to be.

"Where's-" Len coughed as he pushed himself up, "Oliver?!"

"Calm down!" Mystery Man shouted, pushing him gently back. His voice seemed much less menacing than what Len could remember, but maybe that was because he was no longer threatening his boyfriend. "Oliver's fine. He's at school right now."

Len could sense the truth in his voice. And with that he immediately felt he could breathe again.

_But... school? Wasn't it just Saturday?_

"How long have I been out?" Len asked as he slowly relaxed back.

"Three days," he answered plainly. Len looked up to the ceiling. _Three days..._

"Look," he said, "I apologise about attacking you—"

Len stared at him.

"—and Oliver, naturally."

This time, Len sighed. Oliver ended up safe, and that was enough reason for him to want to end this matter. Besides, the guy had been _trying_ to 'save' him.

"Who are you?"

"Dex. I'm a werewolf... in training."

"In training?"

Dex nodded, "Us werecubs need to kill a vampire, before we can be accepted as a werewolf."

Len nodded in half-understanding.

"It's a pack rule. And a tradition."

Since Len had literally nothing else to do, he decided maybe listening was less boring than quietly staring into the mind-fazing white ceiling above him. Dex told something of a human boy a long time ago who fell in love with a wolf, but honestly, having just woken up in a strong-smelling room with plain colours and the feeling of something just splitting his body apart, he wasn't in the mood to listen.

After Dex had finished, Len could see a shadow by the door. It opened, and his heart skipped a beat. Joy—everything else vanished. _Oliver's here!_

"Len!" The boy's look of surprise was priceless. Len made sure to keep it in his mental-image-of-Oliver-mental-storage. "You're awake!"

"Ye-" Len coughed again, "yeah." Just his presence pulled Len to a smile. "Not sure if I'm kickin' it though," he half-chuckled, kicked the blanket off in his attempt to joke. And with what he looked like then – probably bandaged more than Oliver at that point, as his abdomen was basically a mummy – Oliver was driven to a laugh.

"Don't worry, you'll get out of here in no time," Oliver leaned in to kiss Len's forehead, "love."

But then a cough... from Dex. _Right, he's still here._

"I'm gonna leave now." And he left without another word, tail wagging playfully. Len motioned to stop him, but it was too late.

It was then Oliver stumbled back, "Len," he spoke in an unsure way, "I love you, but—" he shut his eyes, clenched his fists, "I'm not sure..."

"I'm not sure this is best for you."

Len frowned for a moment. He reached out to Oliver's hand, and spoke softly but sternly, "I know it is. Oliver." Len pulled him closer, and Oliver looked back to him with his now-watery eyes. "Trust me."

Those words seemed to have an effect on Oliver, as upon hearing, he quickly nodded. Oliver wrapped his arms gently around Len in a careful embrace. "Okay." Then he half-smiled, "But it won't stop me from worrying about you."

Len ran his hand through Oliver's hair, then signalled for him to pull back, which he did. And when their eyes relocked, he told him, in a whisper so that only he could hear, "Just having a chance with you makes me the happiest in the world."

Oliver's response was a blush and a laconically cold "Idiot!"

To which Len, having an extensive knowledge of manga and anime tropes, smirked, "Tsundere."

If Oliver couldn't understand the word (which was most likely the case,) he didn't seem to show any sign of it as he pulled away and frowned at the wall clock. "I can only stay here for another hour."

Len announced with a smile, "Then let's make it count!"


	11. Chapter 11

It had only been a week since Len was discharged. Worry was still pooling around Oliver's heart; there were just too many problems to ignore. _Yet, how could he just be so carefree?_ Oliver thought as he watched the boy from close behind, _Is he hiding it? Or is he just that_ _dense_ _?_

Well, whatever it was, Oliver didn't want it to change. While he had been all caught up on Yohio, werewolves, and all the countless other threats, Len always lit the path for them.

Sometimes Oliver wondered if his overthinking were just holding them back. Stopping them from having a more fulfilling relationship. It definitely seemed so, especially after that incident last fortnight.

_It's my fault,_ he'd always find himself thinking. _If I kept my eye on Dex he wouldn't have—_

But things in the past can never change. Oliver knew that too, yet that never stopped his self-loathing.

"Oliver," his dark thoughts faded, leaving him to just see Len in front of him, concerned.

"A-uh, yeah?"

"Nothing," he shook his head lightly—how that ponytail bounced so gracefully as he did, "just wanted to know if you're alright."

"I'm okay," Oliver grinned, before taking Len's right hand in his left. And walked beside him out of school.

As usual, Len passed his apartment for more of their time together. Oliver knew Len loved to play games and stuff at home, so he really wanted to make it worth his time. But Len would always sense his unsettlement, and tell him that just spending time with him was enough to make it worth. Sure, it made his heart melt, but that didn't stop him from wanting to make use of their time.

...

"Really?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah, I noticed it around thirteen," Len said, "From, y'know, when everyone starts talking about boobs and that sort of stuff. Realised I wasn't really interested in it. But I never really thought about being gay and all that until fourteen."

Oliver nodded.

"What about you?" Len asked, giving him his full attention.

"Twelve," Oliver said unexcitedly, "so, about three-four years ago."

Len nodded, and opened his mouth to ask another question, but suddenly Oliver sensed something—he returned his gaze to the front—pulses overrode his hearing, he felt stifled. Yohio was devilishly grinning, with an arm on his hip, and an intent dark.

In the corner of his eye Len looked at him, his face was concerned at first but it turned to full-fledged worry. He followed the direction of Oliver's gaze but ultimately he didn't know who he was.

"So, Ollie," said Yohio as he took slow, menacing steps forward, "Today's it huh? For him?"

Oliver froze—as if some demon had possessed him. No matter how much he tried to retaliate—to make an excuse—he couldn't move. Dread.

In the corner of his eye, Len was still piecing things together. Yohio was too near, he had no time. Suddenly, in the pinch, a bright fire blazed and melted the ice that restricted him. His body was moving on it's own yet Oliver felt he had full control, "No!"

He could feel his heart racing, his need for panting, more air. And in return, his senses were sharpened to its peak.

Yohio stopped. Then with an evil stare he fixed him, "Then I'll do it," he sneered, lunging forward with his sharpening fangs.

"No!" Oliver shouted, jumped, deflected Yohio's pounce. His hand shivered as he eyed it with fear. Was that the right choice? It had to be. *But things could still be better so I must have done something wrong!*

"Tch," Oliver could hear the disappointment in his brother's click, "so you are getting attached?"

Hesitantly, Oliver nodded. In a flash Yohio took Oliver's arm and dragged him away from Len. Len tried to act but swiftly he was kicked, square in his chest, to the ground.

Oliver could hear Len's groan and a splatter of blood. Tears were welling in his eyes, _I don't want this any longer!_

"Len, was it?" he tightened the grip around Oliver's arm, "Get anywhere near Oliver again, and there won't be any mercy."

Oliver evidently tried to speak up, but a quick stare by his older brother had his mouth shut. As the distance grew the air grew colder, thicker—and his heart panged—the shackle of ice clenched ever tighter. But Oliver continued to look at Len—he had to!—who, with his eyes of refusal and disbelief, promised to get them back together.

But Oliver wasn't so sure. He wanted to believe, yet right now it seemed impossible—another fuck up could mean that they will never have another chance—and Oliver wasn't ready for that. He could never be!

**＊＊＊**

The room reeked of dried blood, piss, and other bodily fluids. Scattered on the floor were rotten parts that nobody liked: intestines, feet. Oliver felt disgust build at the edge of his throat, no matter how many times he had been there, he could never find it any more than a torture chamber.

"We've taught you for years!" Yohio flared, his voice booming, echoing in the room, "People like that are completely off-limits!"

Oliver stayed quiet, his head hung down.

"Not only is he a fucking human, he's—an untouchable! Don't you know that?"

Oliver weakly nodded.

"And you still think you can be with him?"

Oliver bit his lip, a tear fell.

"For Count's sake, kill him—or break up with him. But if I see you two together again, I'll kill both of you myself."


	12. Chapter 12

The kick from yesterday hurt like hell. Len could still feel his insides churn and complain, and the school's nurse really didn't have much to help. He exited the room to a waiting, worried Oliver, who on sight quickly lurched forward to help as though Len were unable to walk himself.

"Len," Oliver voiced his worry, "how do you feel?"

"Still hurts," Len said, with his left hand over his tummy, "but—it's fine now. I can hold it."

Oliver nodded blankly, bit his lip and avoided conversation for the rest of the walk. Then he stopped at one of the benches right by the window, in the quiet side of school. It's a shame it had to be raining that day. Being outside in the sun would have been more relaxing.

So they sat, and fiddled and hummed for a few moments before Oliver broke the spell, "Len—" he said. He was holding back, like he was scared.

Then Oliver finally said it, "We're breaking up."

The words held Len in a flurry of emotions, thoughts— _no way I heard that right... right?—_ But he knew Oliver; he knew he was doing this for him; he knew Oliver still loved him. Else why'd he be crying. "Oliver, please, not this again—"

"No Len, we're breaking up," he sobbed—and if Len hadn't been so confident he could fix this, he'd be too, heck, he was already at the edge of it.

"Oliver, we can still—"

"You can't force me into a relationship, Len!"

"I don't care about getting hurt—"

Oliver flinched, as though he couldn't bear to hear those words, "it's not just you. Yohio's threatening to kill me too!" Oliver looked to Len. Eyes narrowed. Tears held back.

Now, Len couldn't say anything. He would gladly sacrifice himself, but Oliver was completely different— _But it'll work out, right?!—But then I'd be risking Oliver's life!—But that won't..._

Oliver stood up, looked away, and motioned to leave. On reflex, Len grabbed his hand, but on thought, it quickly weakened. Oliver slowly pulled it off, but when he took his first step,

_Bam!_

a classroom door banged open.

"A lot of noise today, huh?" Kiyoteru said as he looked to the two of them. "Come in," he said in a tone that resembled anger—though it was clearly something different.

The two walked in together, guilty as they both had never gotten into real trouble before. Once they were in Len looked to Oliver, to the back-facing teacher, and then Oliver again, shifting in his spot uncomfortably. Meanwhile Oliver stayed fixed on Kiyoteru, with a protective hand inching towards Len.

Kiyoteru turned around and laughed. "Don't be so tense. I'm not here to hurt you."

Upon hearing this, Len relaxed a little, but Oliver kept his position. Immediately Kiyoteru fixed Len, with so much seriousness it creeped him a little, "Len, do you know anything about magic?"

The question held Len in a new world of questions, _Magic? As in magic tricks? Or is this something like Harry Potter? Is he talking about books?_

Kiyoteru sighed and muttered under his breath, "These kids..."

Len stammered as he tried to raise the question, "Umm..."

"So Oliver never told you?"

Len shook his head and looked to Oliver, who scratched his head and made out an awkward giggle. "I didn't want to involve you any more than you had to be."

Len nodded in understanding, a smile making its way on his face as the sincere care washed away the minute doubts from the previous argument.

"But," Oliver spoke, "how do you know, Mr Kiyoteru?"

"You will know in due time; however, you know the situation, it is best if Len learns magic as soon as possible."

Oliver, while hesitant, nodded in agreement.  
  
"How much do you know, Oliver?" Kiyoteru asked, his face in deep thought.

"The basics—and a few techniques."

Len still wasn't sure if he was awake, or if he was even understanding them correctly. It felt as though there were an invisible wall between them.

"Alright, then Len has a lot of catching up to do," he sighed. "Come meet me after school."

"Yes sir," Len replied right away. Though he had no idea what exactly he just agreed to.

"I can't stay for long. Yohio'll get suspicious."

"I understand."

With that the bell rang, and the two exited the room and hopped into the river of students to get to their next classes. Fighting to stay near in the turbulent chaos, "Oliver," Len raised, the matter of their break-up still present in his head.

"I know," Oliver exhaled, then looked down. "I can't be your boyfriend right now. It's too risky," he said, "but when the situation clears a bit, I promise—"

Hearing those words Len immediately lit up.

Oliver giggled softly. "We can still talk, but no more dates—nor can we walk home together anymore, understood?"

Len nodded ecstatically. "Uh-huh. Got it."


	13. Chapter 13

The door clicked and whished open. Kiyoteru beckoned and Len and Oliver rushed in, closing the door as quickly and quietly as possible without being too suspicious.

"Remedial Physics."

Len tilted his head, then glanced to Oliver, who looked to the teacher as usual with full understanding.

"That's what you'll say if anyone asks you why you're seeing me after school," he explained, turning to Oliver, "and as for you..."

Oliver nodded. But Kiyoteru lacked an immediate response.

"We could say you're helping me out with something, but your brother will definitely pick up on that."

"I understand," Oliver bowed lightly, then frowned as he turned to Len, "I guess I can't really visit much after all."

Len felt like something had just escaped his heart; left it empty for a moment. "Don't worry," he shook his head, "A bit sad... but if it's the only way..."

Oliver smiled, and they both nodded together.

"Okay," Kiyoteru clapped, and the attention of the two children quickly returned to the teacher. "Let's start our crash course," he raised a finger.

Immediately, a bright light appeared at its edge, and tables and chairs levitated off the ground, floating mystically, Len awed at the sight, looked for strings or magnets or anything to explain. It was only after a while did the other senses return to him. And glancing to Oliver he saw that he had been watching him with a smile. "How did you do that?"

The tables and chairs returned to their spots, and this time Len watched it carefully, but he was still no less perplexed.

"Well that's what you're going to learn today," the suddenly-super-interesting teacher told.

Len trembled slightly.

"But first," he said, "the theory."

Excitement quickly doused. And the Oliver beside giggled, patting his back in a way that comforted him. But as much as it did, the dread still lingered,

_Better be nothing like Physics._

**＊＊＊**

Len and Oliver sat in the front-most seats, facing the teacher with their full attention.

"Let's start with how it works," Kiyoteru said, holding the marker up in his usual antic way – with the forefinger, thumb, middle-finger and ring finger alternating on each side of the marker – to write.

_F a i e L i n e s_

"Our world is full of invisible energy. On Earth, they are concentrated in what are called Faie Lines. They are everywhere, and take form as wire-like sources of energy, from as little as five," he pinched his fingers, "to up to fifty centimetres in diameter."

Len bit his lip and replayed the short lecture in his mind again. _Invisible energy... Some Lines... everywhere... and—how big are they again? Let's just hope that isn't important._

"Can we continue?"

Reflexively Len nodded.

"Okay. Magic," he illustrated the word with his finger again, levitating the marker, "is done by manipulating, or bending these lines to your will."

Len nodded,

"For example, to levitate this marker, I manipulate the Faie Lines, creating disturbances in the Faie Field, that creates a force that pushes the pen upwards, equal and opposite to the force of gravity."

Len blinked... twice... and the only thing in his mind, _Good thing the class's empty, or someone would have shouted "Don't you mean 'marker', sir?" by now._

Oliver looked at him with concern, and Len forced a smile. Kiyoteru sighed.

"I guess it's not important for now. But remember this," he said, "Will. Will and determination. Faie Lines resonate strongly with them. They are what will drive you when you are practicing magic.

_Nod._

"That is one of the three main steps of magic,"

 _There's more?_ Len thought; the triumph of understanding slipped away.

"Yes. That was the first one, is Bend, or Manipulate. The second one is Gather, where you will concentrate the Faie Energy into a certain point. This can protect you from being influenced by other people's magic, and can protect you from certain magical attacks. You can also use this step to charge for more advanced magic spells."

Len nodded blankly.

"So, Len, can you guess what the final part is?"

Len thought about it and scrunched his face. Bit his lip. Closed his eyes. Then opened it again. "Spells?"

"Correct!" Kiyoteru said.

Len grinned and glanced at Oliver to check—he was smiling for him. Len could feel his heart, his tummy tingle.

"Step three is Release. Where you release the gathered energy in the form of a spell, or an attack. However, you must remember that some spells can be done with only the first step, Bend."

Len nodded and raised his hand.

"Yes."

"So to do step three, we have to do steps one and two first?"

"Correct. Any more questions?"

Len shook his head and looked to Oliver.

"Good. Now, let's get started with our first practical. Meditation."

It was then Oliver stood up with his bag. "I need to go now, or Hio'll get suspicious," he frowned, "Sorry, Len."

Len shook his head, "It's okay. See you tomorrow?"

Oliver nodded and smiled before moving to leave. Len watched as Oliver walked away, then closed the door between them. In his heart a sting started to grow.

"Len," Kiyoteru said, "Let's get started."

Len immediately sat back straight and faced front.

Kiyoteru laughed at this and walked to the further side of the classroom, where there were less desks. "We need some open space to effectively meditate, obstacles will make it harder for you from finding the Faie Lines."

Len nodded, stood up and walked to sit beside Kiyoteru, facing the open window that let in the evening-yellow sunlight.

"Sit upright, but relax. Be careful about your posture, keep yourself in a receptive position, you want to detect invisible energy."

"Now, close your eyes, and focus on your natural rhythm, your breathing, your heartbeat. Make sure it's steady, and at a natural pace."

_Nod._

"Get rid of any complex thoughts, try to sense what's around you, the humming of the birds outside, and the warmth of the sun on your skin."

"Now, search for a stream of light. But don't try too hard, or your rhythm will go out of balance."

Len focused, but he couldn't find anything out of the ordinary, certainly nothing mystical. The light filtering through his eyelids rippled and shook, and the cold was numbing his fingers and feet. He could feel as though something were worming under the skin of his leg and his breathing started to deepen.

"If you can't find it, try to relax again, focus on your breathing and pulse, forget about searching for a moment."

Len took deep breaths, and returned to a relaxed sitting position, he tried to not think about finding the lines, or the rapid heartbeats that he should try to slow, or Oliver, or even trying to calm his mind.

_Dammit, why do I keep getting these chaining thoughts!_

"Len."

He opened his eyes, and looked to Kiyoteru—bit his lip, fiddled his fingers, and quickly averted his eyes.

"Don't worry," Len felt a hand on his shoulder, "it's not easy for anyone, you'll get the hang of it eventually."

_But eventually's not soon enough. I need it right away._


	14. Chapter 14

Oliver held back another heave as he approached the lunch table. Fukase had already been waiting by the usual spot and the others were chatting around as usual

It was only the absence of a certain dorkish, annoyingly-positive, yet so loveable boy that held Oliver at such an edge. It had only been their third day seperate and he already missed him. Sure, they'd meet in most of their school days, but they were always either fleeting encounters in the hallways or in class, where Oliver could not afford to act abnromally. What's more was that spring break was nearing, and the thought of a full two weeks of not seeing Len was so daunting it kept him anxious.

"Yo," Fukase waved in a way that beckoned for him to come.

_What could he want now?_

"Where's Len?" he asked, "Haven't seen him in awhile."

Oliver shook his head. "I don't know," he plainly answered.

"You two were dating, and now you don't even know where he is?"

"Come on, Fukase," Oliver said in irritation, "You know what happened."

Fukase nodded, and smiled in a way that said defeat, yet the creepiness was still there, and it was enough to give Oliver goosebumps.

"Stop that."

"Fine," he said, but his smile never vanished. "I was the one who told your brother, you know."

At that Oliver gave Fukase a serious stare, as though a threat, though both knew that it was empty. Much to Oliver's chagrin, he was weaker than his forced acquaintance, so all he could really do was beg under the cover of mock-threats—something that seemed to work about half the time.

"Don't be so tense. I requested your brother to spare him after all."

Oliver stayed fixed on him, while Fukase just looked down on him, his cold sneer just stayed eerily, as though it was frozen on his face.

"Still find this fun. Why would I let him die when he's making school so much more interesting?"

Oliver wasn't sure what to feel, While he was grateful Fukase had vouched for his life, the reason wasn't something Oliver could bear hearing. Len wasn't just some play-toy to be thrown away when he sees fit. He wasn't just a thing, he was much more than that.

_He's Len, the new student. The fun, loving boy who can be cutely awkward, deathly romantic, and mosttimes outright stupid. And even then he is still so much more._

Fukase seemed to notice his train of thoughts—maybe even read it. "Don't get too attached to him," he made out a creepy laugh, "I wonder what you two'll do now."

In reflex Oliver looked down, then back up. His heart beat slowly started to accelerate and deafen his ears, as he continued to navigate his mind's cloud of thoughts—

_What Can I do?_

* * *

**Diary Entry #3 | Oliver**

26 February 2001

Dear Diary,

Dad's ignoring Mum again, and she's a bit upset about it.. . although she'll never show it. Sometimes I really think about why they got together, they don't seem to love each other very much. And why is she staying? I know it's tradition or whatever but if Dad barely notices her isn't it better to run away?

Love huh?

It's been a week since I last saw Len. I wonder how he's doing. I really really want to visit him, and meet up with him. But Yohio wouldn't allow me to. And Mum and Dad probably won't like it either.

I still wonder a lot about why I like Len. Is it his personality? His looks? I can't tell. Maybe it's the way he likes me. I've never had someone like me like that before, if he didn't like me, would I still like him?

I guess there's no point in asking these questions right now. I'll figure it out one day.


	15. Chapter 15

In the complete darkness, Len felt himself whiz through space. The buzz of cars faded, replaced by the light howling of wind from the outside, and he could even smell the blooming flowers from the roadside twelve stories below, with no sign of smoke or that noxious car exhaust.

The clusters of phosphenes floating and merging and splitting and forming new shapes. Squares and circles and stars, a lightning, a ring, Oliver, then suddenly they all moved—they gathered in a line and there it stayed, glowing in the empty. Len reached out to it, and as he neared, he felt power slowly pour around him, like a fluid of energy. Then he could see pure nothing, in bright light—and he felt warm, as though he were engulfed in a mystical fire.

He thought of Oliver again, how he wanted to be with him, then the stream surged and raged and before he could be overwhelmed, his eyes shot open and he shakily collapsed onto his bed, panting.

But the energy still lingered around him; a radiating glow that thinly shrouded him—his hands. He moved them and it seemed to follow; he tried to throw it but it seemed to dissipate only after a couple centimetres.

It turned him to a smile. He knew this was what Kiyoteru meant. He knew this was success. Perhaps he could now hold his ground against Oliver's brother. That would mean he could date Oliver again, and God did he want that.

With the warmth of satisfaction Len laid himself back on his bed, yawned, and with most of his worries melted for the night, he let himself slip adoze.

**＊＊＊**

Morning came and Len ran to his school with a lingering grin, in his heart a lowkey desire for a bit of praise. Frankly, he didn't expect to be able to complete that 'homework' Kiyoteru had given him. And to be able to pass it—

Maybe he could tell Oliver too, _He'd be so happy, I hope._

_I know I am._

First lesson was Biology, and for once, Len was half-an-hour early to class. He threw his bag onto the table and sat on the front row, where Oliver liked to sit, and where they had first met. He pulled his bag, took out a few common necessities, and deposited it under.

Of course, he didn't know what he'd do with the extra time, but he really wanted to tell him as soon as possible.

Fifteen minutes passed with Len fiddling and gazing out of the window. But then Oliver entered the classroom, and he could see his eye widen for an instant. Len took it that he didn't expect it, which he could honestly one-hundred-percent forgive.

"You're early," Oliver said, still trying to stay inconspicuous.

"Uh-huh," Len quickly answered, adding with a grin, "Wanted to tell you I did it."

"Did—" for a moment Oliver's mouth hanged open in a sort of disbelief, but he quickly concealed it, sitting beside Len and placing his bag on the desk. Then facing front, he whispered "That's great, have you told Mr Kiyoteru?"

Len wanted to shake his head but quickly decided against it, "Not yet."

"Alright." Oliver paused, as if in thought. "I'll come by later after school."

"Okay," Len tried to hide his grin.

But both couldn't help but to smile, just a little.

Soon the class filled up with the other students, and the teacher placed her pile of papers and laptop down on her table.

"Right, class," she said, and the buzz quieted down. "Next week, we will be dissecting the eye."

Len flinched at the mention of the organ, while half the class ooh'ed and ew'ed. Oliver was mostly unfazed. But Len couldn't bear of the thought of touching an eye, even looking at one detached from where-it-should-be, in a picture, was far enough grotesque. To think that in a week he'd be slicing one open. He shivered at the thought, and shook his head to rid of the repulsive mental image.

Yet someone decided it was right to ask, "What's next?"

"Getting excited are we?" the teacher mused, "After that will be the heart, but that will be a few months from now."

Len was still no less disgusted.

**＊＊＊**

Contrary to what Len had expected, the atmosphere in Kiyoteru's classroom that day was much more tense than usual. Len fidgeted as Oliver stood quietly, waiting for the teacher to say something.

Meanwhile Kiyoteru had his head in his hand, shaking them every other moment.

"So—" Len tried to break the ice.

"Oliver," He immediately said, "What's the situation with Yohio?"

Oliver answered, "He's still being really vigilant about this. He's been watching over me every day since that happened."

"Does he know Len's—?"

Oliver shook his head tentatively, "but I—Fukase might have gone into it. And we can't be sure if he's going to tell him or not."

Kiyoteru closed his eyes in thought. Len wanted to say something, but he really didn't know what to say. It's like one of those awkward moments when you want to join in a conversation, but you don't know enough of anything to talk about the topic.

"Len, Oliver," Kiyoteru said suddenly, "Pack your things. We're leaving on Friday."

"What!?"

"I know a safe place for you two," he told, "we're leaving on Friday first thing in the morning."

Len looked to Oliver, and he stared back at Len with a just-as-dumbstruck look.

Suddenly, Len began to question his teacher. He hadn't revealed anything about himself that would explain why he'd know magic, or Oliver, or Yohio, or even why he'd be willing to help Len. Instinctively he'd go with it, he had a feeling that things would work out well.

*But if anything these past couple weeks have taught me. They aren't always right.*

It was then he felt gentle fingers wrap around his hand. Oliver. "Len, what do you think?" he asked.

Len opened his mouth. But no answer.

"What do you feel?" Oliver asked again.

_Feel?_

Len felt his eyes water a little. It was times like this that made him think it was a mistake he was born boy. Not that he didn't like his body, he was perfectly fine with it. But the effect any emotion would have on him was so immense that he sometimes felt shameful. Even Oliver. Cute Oliver. Had been able to suppress them. So why can't he?

"Len," he voice was soft, and so empathetic. It was the first time he could feel even a shred Oliver's true emotions in his words. "Tell me what you feel."

"Go." Len answered, as short as possible in fear of breaking his voice in tears. He didn't even know why he was doing it. To preserve an image he didn't even have? Maybe it was to be more like Oliver. Or maybe it was his parents' lectures finally getting to him after all the years.

"Then we're going," Oliver said, looking to Kiyoteru for his reaction.

Kiyoteru nodded, "Don't bring too many things, or you'll attract attention, and try to bring only a few things each day."

Afterwards the two left separately, with Oliver leaving ten minutes earlier than Len. On his walk home Len wondered if it was right to go with his instinct. If they would soon regret it, then he would be entirely at fault for not thinking it through.

In that sense he idolised Oliver. Being able to hide his feelings, control them, think through every little detail and pick the best for every situation. He was much more of a man than him, and honestly, it stung, if only just a little.


	16. Chapter 16

Friday came around quicker than expected. Len and Oliver each had a suitcase in their hands, and their school backpacks were stuffed with clothes and toothbrushes and all that sort of stuff.

Oliver lightly fidgeted in his place. _Will this really happen?_

Then he looked to Len. That look of excitement on his face... but he could sense that Len was worried too, just a bit but it was there.

"Let's go," Kiyoteru said.

They both nodded and refitted their backpacks before walking out of class. The three scanned the hall to make sure that no-one was watching, then once the coast was clear, they snuck out. Oliver and Len giggled to themselves. The excitement of such a petty rebellious act surged within them, leaving them pounding, tingling.

After a while of walking, Kiyoteru turned a right into a narrow path, and Oliver held back a laugh while Len smiled. Oliver nudged Len and he glanced back knowingly. This had been the place Len found him out. The image of his experience still left him a shiver, but it turned out alright. They were good now.

Then Len's expression suddenly changed to puzzle as he spoke up, "Sir."

"Yes?"

"Isn't the airport the other way?" he asked, confused.

_Is it? I don't think so but..._

Kiyoteru shook his head. "No. It's this way," he said, "I've been here before."

Len nodded weakly and continued to follow. And for the rest of the walk, Oliver couldn't help but to glance at Len every other moment. To which Len, when he noticed, returned to him with a smile that caused him to blush and look away.

Oliver admired Len. For more than just his beautiful body and pure soul. He admired his ability to act on instinct, to show his emotions so readily. Something he couldn't do himself. It was as if every time he tried, there was this big dam that stopped his feelings from flowing.

Every time Len bolted his head to look at something new and ooh'ed at its wonder, Oliver felt a pang of jealousy in him. No, not that he didn't want Len to look at anybody but himself. It was that Len was still living a childhood, a teenhood that he never experienced.

Of course, he'd be damned if he'd let that get in the way of their friendship— _or well, boyfriendship, hopefully_. But it's something that keeps lingering within his heart. A kind of thing that haunts him, that only momentarily disappears when he's hugging him or kissing him.

 _It'll go away_ , he thought, _I'll live a life with Len and that'll be enough to rid of it._

Oh, but if only it was that easy. Count Dracula would turn in his grave.

**＊＊＊**

While waiting in line, Oliver and Len played Chopsticks. 2-3 against 3-1. Len's turn. They were smiling. Len hit Oliver's left with his three and before Oliver could make his next move, Kiyoteru whispered that they had to go.

They both followed him to the immigration officer, who with a weary face asked for their passports. Len immediately shuffled through his bag but,

_Crap!_

Then Kiyoteru showed him a badge and a couple words of whisper that Oliver couldn't discern, and the man immediately let them through.

Confused, the two looked at each other and lightly shrugged. And after they were far enough away, Len finally asked, "What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," he answered, "you'll know it when you get there."

Oliver nodded while Len still looked at him perplexed.

The group settled in the waiting room, where Len and Oliver watched through the giant glass walls the planes land and takeoff. Or otherwise just stood waiting for passengers. Oliver couldn't see it with as much awe as he saw on Len's face, he knew how they worked, how the engines used kerosene to pump air behind and propel them forward. How the wings made a pressure difference that thrust them aloft. Nothing was left to wonder. It was all boring.

And yet Len, a boy his age, found it fun, amusing, interesting.

"Len," Kiyoteru called from his seat.

Len leaned back to face him upside down. "Yeah?"

"Do you know how planes work?" he asked.

Len turned and nodded, and to Oliver's surprise, started explaining it in such a detailed way that usually would've escaped him in any physics class.

Even Kiyoteru seemed equally surprised, for when Len had finally concluded his response, he was speechless, with his mouth opening and closing as though he didn't know what to say.

"I'm impressed," he said in that stereotypical tone, and Len lit up from the praise.

Looking at him like that, it made Oliver smile too.

**＊＊＊**

Oliver hadn't known much about the Country of Peace before coming here. Their parents rarely talked about it any meaningful detail, they always seemed so scornful even when they were looking at anything remotely resembling the flag, so Oliver never bothered to ask.

But since he'd met Len, he'd been curious. And oh boy had his first step in dazzled his senses. It made him tremble and smile and who-knows-what with the explosion of emotions inside of him.

"Len."

He turned his head and nodded.

"You lived here?" Oliver asked, adjusting his seatbelt to face Len.

"Mhm," he said. "It's a bit packed huh?"

Oliver slowly nodded, but that wasn't what he was thinking at all. "Why—did you come to Inglund?"

Len straightened up but that just made Oliver lean to look at him further, the blur of blue and green and white in the background.

"My family are all singers," Len sighed.

Oliver nodded quietly.

"Really popular here. Whenever I tell anyone my name, they'd crowd me and ask me questions—it's just tiring."

Oliver nodded again. "I get it." At school he'd always be chased by all the other students in his group. Sure, it was his own doing, but it was only for his father that he did it. No way would he voluntarily get a bunch of creeps to fantasise about him.

Len looked back at him with a bit of surprise, and Oliver could almost feel him shift a little closer. "Thanks."

Oliver just smiled in response, and that seemed to be adequate for Len. Oliver leaned on his shoulder and for some reason, it felt more comfortable to when they had done it before. As though he felt safer. Warmer.

_But—_

Soon the taxi stopped and Kiyoteru announced they had arrived. Oliver pushed the door open and looked up—his mouth opened in awe—a skyscraper so high.

Oliver looked to Len, who, after taking in the grandness of the towering structure before them, faced him with a smile. Oliver now knew what it felt like to be a child again. This one, though he'd seen pictures and read textbooks, left him completely awestruck. So much so that he let in to the pounding desire to look up again—The neverending stream of windows and lights and grey, disappearing only into the infinite darkness of the night sky.

Then the car horns blared and the revving of cars plunged him back to reality. Oliver could hear Len giggle from his side and that made Oliver smile.

"OK," Kiyoteru said from behind them, "Let's go in."

"This building?" Oliver looked back and asked, hesitating.

He nodded, and walked past them to open the automatic sliding doors. A whish of new wind blew past them and they could feel it, comfortably cold on their skin.


	17. Chapter 17

Inside, the building was empty... and except for that receptionist in the centre of the room, you would think that all the skyscraping and landscraping majesty was for nothing.

"Welcome," the woman said with the stereotypical open smile, "do you need any help?"

Kiyoteru, again, flashed his badge and said to her something. Len shifted closer to try to listen in but he couldn't discern anything.

But then suddenly came a raspy childish voice from the right. "Ah, Kyo-Kyo, welcome back."

Len flinched and turned around and saw a small green-haired boy with a creepy smile. He looked around five, or maybe even four. Holding out a hand to 'Kyo-Kyo' as though they had known each other for years.

Oliver didn't seem as surprised, but his expression did shift. He edged closer to Len, and Len could feel that he was ready to defend at any moment.

"Who are these two kids?" – the Practically-A-Toddler asked. Len twitched his hand but Oliver quickly calmed him down with the squeeze of a finger.

"Kagamine Len and Efex Oliver," Kiyoteru said, "I'm registering them as new members."

"What?"

Kiyoteru turned to him with a blank face, "Oh, right," he scratched his head, "I forgot to tell you guys."

_No shit._

Len could even feel Oliver's deadpan beside him.

"We're the Guild of Defenders," he explained, "It'll be safer here for you. And, while you're here, you can learn self-defense."

Len nodded plainly, he had learned about it in his school two years ago. Something about stopping the world war from escalating eighty-something years ago.

"They seem a bit old though, don'tcha think?" Green Troll commented again.

*What? You called us kids and now you're calling us Old?* This time, Oliver seemed just as annoyed.

"Oliver knows magic. And Len's been improving at an anomalous rate."

"A-no-ma-lous..." the boy whispered, drifting off to ponder.

At this point Len's gut was telling him that something was off. Len stared at the green boy again, scanning his posture, his outfit, then he settled on his face... he was still in deep thought, something malicious or other formed but quickly it went away.

"Please, Chairman."

"Chairman?!" Len was taken aback, and Oliver seemed like he was still trying to make sure he heard correctly.

After a whole, full second of just pure confusion, Kiyoteru finally replied, "This is Chairman Ryuto. Head of our Guild."

Len slightly squinted his eyes and tilted his head. Then he looked to Oliver who, while keeping his outward expression, seemed just as perplexed.

"How are you so young?" Len asked.

"Am I?" Ryuto laughed, "I'm a hundred years old, boy."

"But," Oliver immediately followed, "you're not a Vampire."

"You're right," he replied, "However, not only Vampires can make themselves look young."

Len thought about it and realised— _Oliver does look a couple years younger than—_

_Wait. Could Oliver be a hundred years old too—_

"Kiyo, do you really trust these kids?"

He nodded, "I've watched Oliver for two years, and Len for over half a year."

Ryuto sighed and turned his back, "Let's discuss this in the office."

Len reluctantly nodded and took a step forward, only to be swiftly stopped by an arm from Kiyoteru. "He means between us, Len," he said as he handed a red and white card key. "You two can stay in the lounge room while we discuss this. Don't go anywhere else."

Len gulped and nodded. He wondered if still wandering around would be a good idea. But the thought was quickly shattered by a serious look on the teacher's face. "Yes sir."

"Good."

Len took the card in his hand then glanced at Oliver, who looked at him with an expression he could not comprehend. His eye was staring at him but his mouth was neither a frown nor the usual smile, just tight.

**＊＊＊**

The elevator ride was wack. Len had ridden on such fast ones before, but he could never get used them. God forbid they would have to go down through it later—how his head would spin.

The door opened and they stepped in.

Luxurious yellow lights filled the atmosphere. Shining from gold-plated chandeliers. In the centre were sofas and TVs and glass tables, and people lounging and playing cards. To the left were snacks and drinks galore. There were cookies and biscuits and bread, and all sorts of juices and caffeine. Len could see Oliver glance back at him with sparkling eyes before giggling, looking back. On the far edge was an indoor pool, separated only by glass—why they had decided to merge the lounge and the pool was beyond Len. Perhaps people here liked to swim after they watch TV. Or maybe they just like to watch people swim? Len looked to Oliver, who shrugged, seemed equally perplexed. And on the right? Len didn't even need to turn to it to know. It was a mini arcade. At least ten machines from rhythm games to air hockey and racing. But that was only the ones Len could see.

Suddenly Len felt a pull on his hand and Oliver, with a faint smile, dragged him to the pool. They stopped just before the glass, watched in, the people stroking, kicking, racing. You could hear the swishing of water through the barrier.

"I've never swum before," Oliver confessed.

"What, really?"

 _Nod._ "Us vampires don't usually like water. So most of my family never wanted to go near pools. Especially with the smell of chlorine. It always sickened them."

"And you do?"

He nodded. "I find it rather relaxing," he said, Then he averted his gaze and fiddled with the edges of his coat. "I guess I'm just an oddball huh? The strangest vampire you'd probably ever meet."

Len smiled, "The best one definitely."

Oliver blushed and looked at him and smiled. "Le〜n."

"Olive〜r."

"You're such a—" he blushed.

"A?"

"A dork!"

"Love you too."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Oliver pouted and Len laughed on and on and on. A few faces looked at them and only then did Len quiet down. But then he felt a nudge from Oliver, pointing at the boy watching TV. Red hair. Fukase?

Suddenly the air became tense and heavy and Len could feel something different about the boy beside him. Oliver trudged with caution, and Len followed closely behind.

Fukase seemed to realise their nearing, for when they had reached just beside him, he looked back at them with an eerily plain face. Everything about him discomforted Len, from the stitches on his face to his paleness that somehow exceeded Oliver's. Oh he was paper white. Chemical white. And his blood-red hair helped not one bit.

"What are you doing here?" Oliver asked.

He just smiled. "Better question is: What are you two doing here?" he sneered, "after all, you are the ones without this." He held up a badge. Gold, red, white—

"How—?"

But Fukase just smirked, putting his ID back into wherever he got it out from.

Before they could say anything else, the lift door opened and Kiyoteru and That-Green-Old-Man appeared from it.

Len swallowed as they walked their way here.

"Len, Oliver, your membership has been accepted—"

Ryuto interrupted, "On the condition that you clear Level Nine in two month's time."

"Level nine?" Len asked.

"Yes," Kiyoteru said, "Our basic training goes from level one to twelve. You need to pass level nine."

Len gulped, while Oliver beside stayed still.

"Usually, this takes an apprentice two years to finish."

"Two years?!" Len's mouth gaped as he looked to the indifferent-looking Oliver.

Kiyoteru nodded. "So you two will have to work really hard."

Len nodded. He was ready for this. He would need to be strong anyway if he wanted to help Oliver. This would be a win-win. Even if he were to fail, he could still get something out of it.

"What's important is will. Remember that,"

Len nodded.

"Alright, then training starts tomorrow."

Ryuto interrupted, "meanwhile you two can use the apprentice rooms. Here's the card key," he said, holding it up, "you two are okay staying in the same room?"

Len looked to Oliver who seemed to be having an internal debate about it, shaking lightly, fidgeting, and eyes zooming from one direction to another.

Fukase laughed, and that brought Oliver back with a flinch. "Don't worry about me," he said, "Be going now."

Oliver breathed shallow breaths, a drop of sweat was visible from Len's side. "Mr Ryuto."

"Yes?"

"Why is a guy like him here?"

"Oh," he seemed to try to think as he looked up, "who knows."

Len immediately asked. "Aren't you the chairman?"

"Yes," he said, "but he's been a member since before I became Chairman."

Oliver nodded, and whispered under his breath "So he's that good huh?"

"What do you mean, Oliver?"

"Nothing. Fukase's just—a mystery I guess."

Len nodded. He fully agreed. In the short time Len had known him, he couldn't even figure a single thing out. He didn't even know if his hair is actually red, or if he coloured it red with something like blood. Len wouldn't put it past him to do something like that.

"So..." Len fidgeted a little, "do you want to—"

Oliver nodded. "Yeah. Sorry it took me so long," he giggled lightly, stroking his hair. Len had never seen Oliver so nervous about something before. Sure, he knew Oliver liked to overthink things, but never had he really expressed how nervous he was. "I need to hold my ground better next time, don't I."

Len wasn't sure what to answer.

"Sorry."

"No, it's okay," Len turned to Ryuto and held his hand out. On which the chairman placed the plasticky card key.

"Good luck, kids."

Len felt it strum a nerve but he let that slide. Oliver nodded and smiled graciously before taking Len's hand, and pulling it lightly towards the elevator.

"Thank you!"

Ryuto and Kiyoteru nodded. "No problem."

Suddenly in front of the lift Len felt a thump on his heart. _Sleeping in the same room with Oliver?_

_It's like a dream come true but—_

_Will I even be able to sleep tonight?_


	18. Chapter 18

The door squeaked open as Oliver entered the room. It was nothing too fancy. In fact, he thought it was really compact: two single beds in either side of the room, separated by only a few steps of wooden table. There was also a lamp and a small window above the table, just enough to see what's going on outside.

"Nice room, eh?" Len said, entering behind him.

Oliver nodded. "It feels a bit claustrophobic though."

Len looked around and half-nodded. "Yeah. But it's not bad."

Oliver couldn't help but to agree. As much as he found the idea of being trapped in a small room stale, it didn't even compare to his own. And, don't forget, Len was there too. He would trade any gaudy, oversized, extravagant room for just his companion; so it was, in that sense, better than the average.

Oliver stepped forward and claimed the bed left from the entrance. Placed his schoolbag down, and began unpacking the little things he brought.

"Oliver."

"Hm?" he answered without looking up.

"Did you bring any clothes?"

Oliver shook his head. "Well, I did. But only a set. I couldn't bring any more without looking suspicious."

"Then why don't you borrow some of mine?"

Oliver looked up. Both of Len's suitcases were filled to the brim with his stuff. _T-shirts. Pants. Towels. Wipes? Rubber bands? And are those—books?_ Quite a few of them looked like children's fantasy but he recognised some of them to be what they would be working on in their English classes.

Len took one of the novels out and placed it on his bedside.

"You like reading?"

"Yeah," Len took the book and nodded, "I try to read a chapter a day, but," he giggled, "sometimes I end up binging the whole thing in a night."

Oliver laughed.

"What about you, Ollie?"

He flinched.

"Oops."

"No, it's okay," he mumbled, "It's just that—Yohio and Fukase call me that a lot."

Len nodded. "So—"

"But it's okay," Oliver blushed, "I—like it—when you call me that."

A pause.

"So ehh," Len said, "Do you like reading?"

Oliver shook his head, then stopped to think. "Well—a I used to," he said, "Mum and Dad used to make me read books every day, so I got tired of it pretty quickly."

 _Nod._ "Do you ever read for fun?"

"Not really."

Len tossed a book. Oliver instinctively caught it in his hand. He flipped the book over and over. Felt the smooth paperback.

"You should try it."

Oliver nodded, smiled, and stood up. "I—" his hand shook a little, and then, as he placed it aside on his bed, he laid down, face to Len.

"...hm?"

"I can't believe we're roommates now."

Oliver could see Len smile too. "Yeah," he said, "but it's great isn't it? I mean we get to spend more time together now."

Oliver buried his face in his pillow and nodded. "Mhm," he looked back and yawned, "but—we can't really stay here."

Len yawned too. "What do you mean?"

"Fukase."

...

"No doubt he'll tell Hio—if he hasn't already."

Oliver could see Len's saddened nod. _Sometimes, maybe it's better to keep things to myself. I love seeing Len smile, I care about him. So putting this stress on him really I don't want it._

"But we'll be safe here," he reasoned.

_That is, if they're telling the truth._

"I guess," Oliver sighed, pulled up his blanket to cover his chest.

Len stood up. "Aren't you going to brush your teeth?"

"Hm? Yeah. You first," Oliver replied with another yawn.

Len hummed and left the room with his toothbrush. Meanwhile, Oliver lay curled up by the lamp. He looked to the bright spot in the middle, and wondered if it would blind him.

Then the thought of Len hit back.

He shook his head and hid under the covers. He took deep breaths, and shifted to find a more comfortable position, before he got frustrated, pushing the top of his sheet away to let his head free.

Oliver gazed upward. He could feel pain on his left. Sharp. Just below the rib. He took another set of deep breaths, and when it didn't subside, he closed his eyes. Suddenly, realising what it was, Oliver jumped up and gently opened his coat, the poor little finch had been suffocating between his coat and blankets, and oh Count forbid, he'd been squashed under him since he had first laid down.

"I'm so sorry, James."

The bird chirped furiously, flew up and pecked Oliver on his neck, hair, ear.

"Ow ow, stop."

James did so and landed on Oliver's thighs, facing him and letting out an irritated twit.

"You know I didn't do it on purpose."

He simply refused to face Oliver.

"Come on, James."

It was then the door opened and Len entered the room. He looked to Oliver, then to James, then back to Oliver with a confused look, "you never told me you had a pet."

Oliver flinched as James pecked him again through his trousers. "Yeah," he made a guilty smile, "well now you know."

Len stood on his knees by the bed, staring. "What's his name?"

The bird chirped to reply, but Len couldn't get it so Oliver answered for him, "James."

"Hi, James." Len held his hand out. James flapped his wings and landed on a finger, causing Len to tumble backwards in surprise.

James glared at Oliver with his beady eyes and chirped.

"Really? Fine, I get it. But that was no way to act."

"You can talk to him?"

Oliver nodded. "We've been friends for a long time now."

Len looked at it. "He doesn't look very old."

"No," Oliver said, "He's only three."

Len hummed and after, Oliver could see Len remembered something. "Oh yeah, Oliver."

"Mhm?"

"How old are you?"

Oliver snickered a bit but quickly caught himself. Had Len thought he had dated a millennium-year-old-creep in a child's body? Oliver could hope not. "Sixteen, Len," he said, "I'm your age."

Oliver could see a part of Len had phew'd in that instant, as though the thought had haunted him since he figured out that vampires could age slower. Oliver chuckled, and in the moment he decided it was right to tease, "you thought I was a hundred—didn't you?"

For a second Len panicked, "No, No. No. I didn't."

"Don't lie, Len."

"I didn't think you were. Just—Just thought it was possible," Len looked stressed out, guilty, like he'd been caught in an act.

"I get it, I get it," Oliver laughed it off. "I would be worried too if it were the other way around." But Oliver wouldn't lie to say he didn't like the situation. Perhaps he just liked teasing Len, or maybe it's his vampiric nature kicking in.

Len exhaled and put his hand on Oliver's bed to encourage James to get off his already-red hand. But no, James simply stayed perched, with head retracted and beak open to Oliver. He was too much a cocky bird to get on the bed of someone he has not yet forgiven.

_I'm surrounded by idiots._

In desperation, Oliver sighed, "Alright, I lose." And immediately James flew, chirped a few happy tweets, and landed on his head.

Len looked to him with surprise; Oliver felt embarrased. He pushed himself up on his knees and looked to Oliver in the eye, then to his head. Then a giggle came out, and he started laughing.

Oliver made a faint, mixed smile. James was still beak-high and Len was on the floor. He wasn't used to this. He felt slightly out of place.


	19. Chapter 19

Even then, Oliver still couldn't believe Len had cleared levels one to three in the weeks he had back in Inglund. It kinda made him—if not proud, just a bit salty. Oliver had to go through so much more when he was little. It had taken him no less than a year to get to Len's level, and that was with the torture his dad had made him go through.

Suddenly the aura around Len raged and burst, and he fell. Oliver cringed.

He could see Kiyoteru was by Len's side, and with strict expression he told, "Still too strong, you need to limit the current."

That reminded Oliver. Of when he had to go through something like that. Back then his aura had always been too thin. He'd pushed himself so hard, and it took him something like a couple months just to get somewhere close enough.

"Imagine a valve between you and the Lines," Kiyoteru tried.

_Does Len even know what that means?_

For the months Oliver had shared classes with Len, he had grasped a bit of an understanding of what Len could and couldn't get. And sure enough, the glow around him surged and waved. He was stressed out.

"Len," Oliver called out, and the two stopped and looked at him with surprise, "Try calming yourself down—or imagine the flow of it calming down."

Len smiled and nodded, and closed his eyes for another run.

Oliver's heart sped— _Am I nervous?_

A new faint light slowly poured around Len, and as it grew, little swirls and flares coloured the outer layer, driving Oliver's heartbeat to insanity. He wanted as much as Len for him to pass. And if he could assist him, Oliver would pride himself in it.

The aura grew to a few inches. And by then it had stabilised. Len slowly opened in eyes, and his focused expression quickly turned; he beamed.

"We did it!" he jumped, "Oliver!"

Oliver smiled and blushed as he shifted back and forth. The moment he opened his mouth to answer, Len had run onto him, hugged him, and slammed him down. The world spun for a bit as his head hit the rubbery floor, but he could still feel that he was smiling, and hugging Len back.

"Good job, Len," Oliver replied in the best voice he could muster.

The boy got off and smiled and laughed triumphantly. And when it was done, he whispered, "It was all thanks to you."

"No, Len," Oliver shook his head, "you were the one who did it. I can tell you it wasn't that easy," he crossed his arms, "when I was trying to do it."

Len nodded. "I can feel it."

"Huh?"

"You really did help me. I can feel it."

Oliver put out a quiet, knowing sigh and smiled. "Okay, then, we both did it."

Len nodded and smiled back.

They looked each other in the eye. Sparkling, warm. For a second Oliver thought they were going to kiss, but Kiyoteru quickly interrupted them with a loud clap.

"Right," he said, "that's it for today. Good job, Len, you'll be moving on to Level Five now."

"Yes," Len exclaimed quietly beside.

"Dismissed."

And as soon as Kiyoteru's lips closed, the two dashed out the room.

"I'm winning," Oliver laughed and stuck his tongue out playfully as he ran, "again."

"No fair," Len replied, thrusting his head forward, straining himself.

Slowly, Len picked up speed. Oliver gaped as he watched Len overtake him. Then he noticed. "Watch out!"

Len looked up, but by then he couldn't stop himself. Oliver braked and watched as Len flailed into the corner wall, his arms forward to cover his head and body. Oliver looked away and could hear a thud and "Ow", before the thud that signalled Len's falling onto the carpet.

The instant Oliver recovered himself, he bolted beside Len. "Are you okay?"

Len let out a single laugh; his left eye was still shut from the pain, but he was smiling, "No, not really."

Sometimes he wondered how Len could have survived acting like that. Even with parents that cared about him.

"Where does it hurt?"

Len pointed to his leg and his neck, and smiled as though he was satisfied.

Oliver sighed and rolled his eyes, "Come on, let's get you in bed."

Len nodded and pushed himself up. Oliver threw Len's arm over his shoulder, and together, they walked back to their room.

**＊＊＊**

As Oliver turned the knob, he could hear James from inside chirp a happy. He giggled and pushed forward carefully, holding onto Len's arm to make sure he doesn't just randomly fall of. Oliver wouldn't put it past him.

Once they were in Len staggered onto his bed and collapsed face first onto his pillow. James saw this and circled him in worry.

"Long story."

James landed on his shoulder and stared at him. _You always say that._

"No I don't. And besides, Len probably doesn't want to talk about it," Oliver said as he walked to his own bed.

Defeated, James swooped into Oliver's pocket to hide.

"How do you do that?" Len asked.

"Huh?" Oliver looked to him and then up to wonder, "I don't know. I just feel it I guess."

Len hummed as he looked up in thought while Oliver sat there thinking. Why was it that he was able to communicate with James, if he couldn't well express his feelings?

"Oliver."

"Hmm?"

"You know, you've been showing more—feelings lately."

_What? Really?_

"The Oliver back at school would never let anyone see himself embarrassed, or caring so much."

Oliver flushed and looked away. "Shut—I still don't," he replied forcefully.

Len laughed again.

_Irony huh?_

"It's just that—I trust you a bit more now," Oliver explained softly.

"Fair," Len nodded, shifting his attention back to nowhere in particular.

Before long silence took over. Oliver fiddled with his fingers and watched Len as he peacefully lay on his bed. Suddenly he could hear a purr and a grumble, and a chuckle from an embarrassed Len.

Oliver stood up. "I'll go get some food."

"I'll come too," Len offered, "it doesn't hurt that much," he said. But the moment he tried to stand up he ow'd and fell back on his bed, rubbing his knee then his neck in shy embarrassment.

_Silly Len._

"No," Oliver assured him, "I'll be fine myself, so you should stay and rest."

Len frowned and nodded. "Fine," he exhaled, dropped back to bed.

Oliver smiled and made his way to the door. But before he let himself out, he took the time to scan Len's form. His spiky hair—the back of it still wrapped in a ponytail. "I'll be back soon, 'kay?"

"Uh-huh," he replied with a yawn.

**＊＊＊**

Oliver stood outside the convenience store, a bag of food and snacks in hand. As the cold wind gently blew on his skin, he noticed: his eyes were getting tired, his arms were slowly weakening. It was that time of the week.

"James."

The bird immediately flew out of Oliver's pocket and perched himself on his shoulder.

"You know what to do."

He nodded and took flight.

Oliver groomed his hair, and connected his hands. He looked left and right. *Nobody.* So he started walking slowly, wandering under the shadows of the tall buildings.

It took only about twenty minutes. A shadowy figure started to follow behind him. Oliver feigned ignorance, and kept his posture forward. He turned a right, and as soon as he saw that the path was long enough he closed his eye.

An image formed. Of a plot of land sandwiched between two abandoned buildings. _That's perfect. Get me there._

_Right._

James unperched and flew up. Swiftly, he locked on Oliver and raced above him.

_Left._

_Got it._

_Keep going here._

_Yup,_

_Now turn right._

There. Oliver slowly opened his eye and stopped. He turned around. Looked up. The man had an ugly smirk.

"Dead end, little boy."

Oliver stepped back, averted his eye and deepened his breath.

"Don't be shy," the man whispered huskily as he trudged slowly forward. Oliver peeked from the edge of his vision. His excitement had already blown off his face, and he was so obviously erect. "I'm not going to hurt you."


	20. Chapter 20

It was seven-thirty. Len and Oliver sat quietly on the matted floor, their attentions up to the teacher in front of them.

"Today we are starting Release," Kiyoteru said as he held up his finger, a faint purple light glowing on its tip. Len made a silent ooh and stared at the it as it carefully drew out five circles in a pentagonal arrangement.

"Now," he said, "As we have discussed before, Release is a step where the user projects their magic to create certain spells. Right now, I am using my magic to create light."

Len raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"How do you do it?"

Oliver to his right giggled.

"We'll get to that in a minute."

_Nod._

Kiyoteru readied himself, positioned his fingertip on the top circle. "There are five types of magic," he said, "火(Fire), 土(earth), 金(metal), 水(water), and 木(wood). Every user belongs to one of these classes."

Len nodded, and felt another urge to ask. "How do I know which one I belong to?"

Kiyoteru sighed, but his expression stayed as he answered. "You just have to do it," he said, "users that belong to a certain class can still use other types of magic, just to a lesser extent. If you practise them all, then whichever you are best at is probably your type."

Len nodded and looked to Oliver. "Which one are you?"

"I'm earth," he said, "but Rev is wood."

"Rev?"

"Yeah, you know," he combed his hair, "when my hair turns all black and my left eye is exposed. That's Revilo."

Len slowly nodded. He hadn't thought Oliver would have a name for him, but then again 'Revilo' did really look and feel different from the Oliver he was more used to.

"Okay," Kiyoteru clapped, "let's keep moving on:

"Each type has two special relationships with other types," he explained, "generating and overcoming."

_Nod._

"What do you think fire generates, Len?"

Len paused, then answered hesitantly, "Metal?"

Kiyoteru put a finger to his lip and made an unsure expression, "Mm not quite," he replied, "Fire generates earth, which generates metal," he explained as he drew arrows connecting the five circles clockwise.

"What about overcoming?" Len asked.

"What do you think?"

_I don't know that's why I asked!_ his mind said. "Water overcomes fire?"

"That is correct, but what does fire overcome?"

_In Pokémon, Fire is super effective to both Grass and Steel. So, Wood? Metal?_ Len tilted his head and bit his lip. He tried to think but his head had started to ache. He wanted this to end quickly. "When can we start actually doing things?"

"Inaminute."

"You always say that," Len muttered. Then he could hear a deep breath in and an exhale. Len flinched. _Is he angry? Oh god I've done it haven't I?_

It was then Oliver spoke up, "Umm... Mr Kiyoteru?"

Len peeked an eye up. Still angry. But then his expression softened—and he looked to Oliver.

"Len does learn things quicker hands-on. I'll be there to fill him in with the specifics, so I think—it would be better to work on the practical skills now."

Len reflexively nodded and looked up. For the next moment Kiyoteru mulled it over. Oliver stayed focused on him while Len just watched the two with fiddling hands.

In the end, Kiyoteru nodded, and with that the weight finally lifted. "Fine. That works."

Len smiled gratefully to Oliver. Oliver smiled back. It lifted his spirit, his soul—he wanted to see it more. Oliver's care, Oliver's happiness.

For a second, Len wondered if Oliver felt the same. That throbbing obsession that distracts you, keeps you up at night. Then for another moment, he thought why...

Len didn't know how long it was until Kiyoteru snapped him back to reality. But somehow by then he had already a couple of things in hand: a dried leaf, a pot of soil, and a shiny metal bowl.

Out of reflex Len looked to Oliver, who just handed him the leaf. "Try this. Picture burning this leaf with it."

Len took the piece and focused. He closed his eye for a bit and sensed the atmosphere, then did as Oliver instructed. Suddenly it sparked a red flash in the centre and it bursted into flames; on reflex Len yelped and threw it up.

Meanwhile Oliver and Kiyoteru looked at him shocked.

"You're amazing!" Oliver said, "When I was doing it, mine only made a black spot. I didn't get any further than that for—" he made a few awkward giggles, "for a long time."

Len felt a blush creep along his face, but Just as he was about to say something, Kiyoteru interrupted.

"Don't beat yourself down," he said, "you are earth, after all. And Len is doing particularly well."

Oliver made a light nod. and Len felt something tingle inside of him.

For the rest of the training that day, Len worked on the others: Forming soil from a pile of trash was quite easy, it was just a step away from making fire, but getting even pieces of metal to form in a pot of soil, and getting even a bit of moisture to form in an iron bowl was a bit more challenging. For the latter Len had tried to cheat a little by cooling the bowl down—but Kiyoteru, being the physics teacher he was, caught onto that almost immediately. Eventually though, after an hour of trying, he was able to get several droplets to form.

"All right," Kiyoteru said, "Final one for the day," as he brought forward a pot, with a seedling just barely sprouting.

"What to do with this?" Len asked.

"Try making it grow."

Len nodded, thought about how for a split second before putting his hands over the plant to try. He tried imagining the energy gathering around the plant to make it grow, then maybe pulling the plant up to encourage it to—but all he did was uproot it and shoot it up to his own face.

Len fell back as Oliver muffled a good laugh. "Oh Len, you're so silly sometimes," Oliver said, leaving Len in a fiddling, mumbling tomato red.

It took like a thousand tries, some of which he accidentally burnt, squashed, blazed, wilted, and even exploded, but he eventually got it. By the end of the day, he had managed to grow a seedling by a couple millimetres. Correct, apparently by Kiyoteru's measurement, by plus-minus one millimetre.

When they had finished and returned to their room, Len sat still on the corner of his bed. He could feel Oliver approach him.

"Len?"

"yeah?"

"You okay?"

Len stayed quiet, twiddled his thumbs.

"You know you did really well," Oliver said, putting his hand on Len's to try calm him down, "You're fire type. You should be bad with wood magic," he tried joking, "or I'd feel really bad for myself—for not even being able to burn the edge of leaf for what... two months?"

Len stifled a laugh, wet his lips and smiled. "Mm you're right. Guess I was just—"

...

"Pressuring yourself too much?"

Len smiled, nodded, "Yeah," slightly averting his gaze. "Just wanted to—well, impress you I guess."

"You know, the fact that you aren't even worried anymore about the deadline is already really impressive."

Len ducked his head a little and nodded.

"Look—what I'm trying to say is..." Oliver breathed, "you already impress me. So don't, you know, knock yourself out too much."

"Oliver."

"I love you, Len. Even if you'd fail—by some chance—it won't stop me from loving you. Love—doesn't work that way. And I know I love you."

A tear rolled down Len's face as he nodded.

"Len."

This time, Len looked to Oliver. Worried. Frown. Lips glistening, eye sparkling. Suddenly Oliver shut his eye and leapt—and by the time Len had to process, they hugged—and Oliver had pushed him down to his bed.

_Oli—ver?_

Len wrapped his arms and enjoyed it: their bodies laid out together, every part of them touching the other—he could also feel Oliver's just beside his, both half erect—then he realised, as his hands rubbed Oliver's back, soft, something warm, fuzzy filled him. Safe. Satisfied.

Time stopped. Thoughts only Oliver, warm feeling, happy feeling. Len connected their cheeks— _hair in the way: soft, Oliver-scented. Nuzzle—the satisfying scratch. Skin-Skin. Oliver-Me._

Before long they parted. And as Len sat himself back up, he could see Oliver blushing behind his shoulder.

"O-Ollie?"

He hesitantly turned to him.

"I really love you too," Len said, smiling.

Oliver nodded as he tried to his his blush. Then he shifted himself beside him and touched their arms—then their hands together.

They looked at each other in the eye, and smiled contently, quietly. Simultaneously, they squeezed each other's palms and inched closer together. They stayed in that position for more than a few minutes, and slowly the sleepiness crept over them.

Oliver let go of Len's hand and went to his own bed. His steps were slightly shaky but still very direct. And then when he reached his bed, he yawned, and laid back.

Len watched him with a smile. How he managed to be with a kind, beautiful, thoughtful – literally – Oliver had always been beyond him.

Len watched him with a smile. How he managed to be with a kind, beautiful, thoughtful – literally – Oliver had always been beyond him.

As Len's mind went through the various things that had happened throughout the day, a question popped in. Len pushed himself slightly up to speak, but then he hesitated. Oliver looked so calm there it felt like a crime to disturb him.

Ultimately Oliver noticed and turned on his side. "What is it, Len?"

"What's Revilo like?"

Oliver blinked twice before sitting up. For a moment he looked hesitant, opening and closing his mouth as though he were trying to find the right words to say. "He's—a different part of me I guess."

Len stayed quiet to let him continue.

"It's—p-probably—better if you meet him yourself." Oliver turned back, then with a single stroke he pulled his bandages loose. Then as it opened through the edge the red eye glowed. His hair turned black again and the atmosphere shifted to something more of malice.

When the change had done Revilo stayed still, his nearer hand eerily sweeping the bedsheet. Back and forth.

Len could only gulp and steel himself as he waited for him to turn his way. To maybe make an introduction or start a conversation. But Revilo stayed, a faint smirk making its way to the side facing Len.

"R-Revilo."

Finally the mysterious boy glanced at Len, with an insane, twisted face—leaking bloodlust.

"So, you're next huh?"

Instinctively Len inched backwards. _Somewhat deeper than Oliver's—and rougher, but definitely similar_. While Revilo, on all fours, leaned closer. But just as Len saw he was ready to pounce, he broke into a twisted laugh.

"Heh heh, you should've seen your face," he said.

Len blushed and smiled. "Probably not."

"Honestly you held up pretty well, annoyingly."

"Helped that Oliver is in there."

He stifled a laugh, "you know he can hear you right?"

Len opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"He's really embarrassed right now—oops I just made it worse."

That pushed a laugh out of Len. And then a light blush.

"How do you decide who gets to control? Just the bandage?"

"No," Revilo said, "Oliver gets to most of the time, but I can take over ocassionally, like when he's sleeping or daydreaming."

Len nodded. "So who are you?"

Revilo shrugged. "Who knows."

...

"Then—"

"All I know is that all I can do is protect Oliver," he muttered, "but well, now that you're here."

Immediately Len shook his head, "No, I—can't do anything."

"That's a lie."

"Anyway, Oliver still needs you."

"How would you know that?"

"I just do," Len answered averting his gaze.

"What kind of reasoning is that?"

"A good one."

"Like hell."

"Oh—shut up."

Revilo laughed and leaned back. "Victory," he whisper-sang as Len sat arms crossed.

"Oliver," Len said sternly.

"Wait—No—"

"Oliver!"

And immediately as his head drooped down, black turned to gold; Len felt slightly guilty.

Then his head slowly rose back up, and a soft voice mumbled. "Len."

"Yeah?"

"He's a bit—annoying huh?"

Len thought for a bit. "—interesting."

Oliver giggled, "yeah he is," he said, "he likes to scare and anger people for fun."

Len nodded, smiled. "And make people feel embarrassed?"

Oliver blushed. "That too," he nodded. "But, you know, he can be really nice."

"Hmm?"

"He's always willing to help..." Oliver trailed off, "kinda like you."

For a long second Len's mouth stayed open. "I—"

"Len. I've always been on the receiving end—I want to help you too...

"But—" Oliver curled up, "will I even be able to help? And—will I help?"

"Oliver..."

"I've never helped anyone before."

"Have," Len said, "Oliver's helped me so much. For the past few weeks. I wouldn't be at this level without you."

Oliver slowly nodded. "Even then I'm just helping you help me."

"Then isn't that enough?"

Oliver looked up.

"It's—well. It's the only thing I can think of doing right now. Helping Oliver. There's nothing else I'd rather do."

A tear welled up. "Len..."


	21. Chapter 21

_So, Oliver, why do you like him?_

  
_Who knows... I mean—he's hot. Clear blue eyes, cool yellow hair—something about his face, his body turns me on too I guess—_

_Well yeah, I get that part._

  
_He's nice, caring. What's another word?—He's just nice to be around, I guess._

  
_That's what I still don't understand. Why is that?_

_I—don't really_ _know._

_Then how can you say you like him?_

  
_It's just—a feeling I guess._

  
_I still don't know how they work._

_Me neither._

_..._

_But you—you like him too don't you, Rev?_

_..._

_Don't you?_

  
_Who knows._

  
_Well you find him attractive don't you?_

_Well—yes, but we share that._

_In some ways, yeah._

_Hmm?_

_I still find some of those boys you—did that with... a bit disgusting._

_Disgusting?_

_I mean—their bodies were—look good, but I can't put my finger on it but—it just felt wrong._

_Well, that's what I'll never understand._

_Don't be like that._

_Be realistic?_

_Pessimistic._

_Y'know you're pretty pessimistic yourself._

_I—guess._

_So, what 're you going to do next?_

_Hmm?_

_With Len. You have a plan?_

  
_Not—really. Even if we ran where would we go? Jeppan's pretty far from Inglund. And it's looking like we'll never shake off Fukase._

_Yeah, he's persistent isn't he. Like a bug._

_Oh don't be mean._

_It was a joke._

  
_You really need a better sense of humour._

_Perhaps. Or maybe you do._

_Urk—_

_Also a joke._

  
_I don't believe you._

_..._   
  


  
  
_Look Rev, I've been thinking._

_Yeah?_

  
  
_If we ever—get to live freely. Maybe—I think you deserve Len more._

_What makes you say that?_

  
_I'm—useless. When that werewolf attacked us you were the one protecting him. I just—watched it happen._

_I didn't really do anything there._

_But still. You stepped up when I was too wimpy to stand. And besides—if we are the same person, what Len said earlier applies to you too, won't it._

  
_Hey we don't even know if he likes me._

_He will, if he spends enough time with you. Since he likes someone like me._

_I don't know how love works. But if he loves you, then he loves you. Not your brother or father or me._

_..._

_So?_

  
_You're right. But—_

_..._

_But—_

_Besides, if anyone you deserve him more. You've done more for him._

_I—_

_You were the one who protected him from Yohio. He's barely even met me._

_But if you did—_

_Well I didn't._

_..._

_..._   
  
  


  
  
_I guess you're right._

_I can't help you with this forever you know._

_I know._

  
_Let's go back to the original topic._

_Huh? Oh, Len._

  
_We've been talking about Len this whole time haven't we?_

  
_Well yeah—you know what I mean._

_Len._

_Oh shut up._

_Heh._   
  


**＊＊＊**   
  


_So, what do you like about him?_

_Ugh I don't know. He's—a nice person. He's—friendly, fun. I just like him._

_..._

_—And well, he's pretty hot too so there's that._

_His smooth, warm skin._

_Yeah._

  
_His smile._

_Oh you're a tease._

_Heh. It's working isn't it._

_Well yeah. Obviously._

_Blush blush, you're too easy._

_Augh,_

_Well, come on. Don't leave it hanging._

_I know I know._

  
_Wonder what he looks like asleep?_

  
_He's cute. Calm, innocent face._

_Peaceful, steady._

_I wonder what he looks like—_

_Naked_

_—Under those clothes_

_He's pretty thin isn't he. Slender body, oh so hot_

_Hot. Len. Remember when I saw his tan brown nipples. I wonder what they—_

  
_Erect_

_Rough_

_And my hands feeling his skin_

_And his brushing against mine_

  
_slowly..._

  
_I'm gonna— Len, Len. Not yet._

_Not yet. More._

  
_Him kissing my neck, my chest_

_Or maybe — licking his neck_

  
_I wonder_

_What his dick looks like_

_How big?_

_Maybe five_

_Maybe six_

_Tip slightly bulging_

_Fully uncovered_

_Pink_

_Ah_

_Len_

_Hot_

_So hot_

  
_Maybe he could put it in my mouth_

_Wet his dick_

_Taste his precum mm_

  
_What if he puts my dick in his mouth_

_Lean back as he works with—_

_Look into his eyes with pleasure as he peeks up_

_As he sucks and licks_   
  
  
  
_Then_

_Cum_

_Into his mouth_

_Cum_

  
_Len._

  
_Len. Love._

_Len._

  
_I'm still feeling—_

_Floating._

_..._

  
_..._

  
_I guess we gotta clean up now._


	22. Chapter 22

The night was dark: The moon was out, and not as many lights were colouring the skyline. Len was on the side of his bed swinging his legs, and Oliver was lying back-side-up, tracing out irregular shapes on the white ceiling.

Suddenly three loud beeps shattered the silence. Len flinched and reached into his pocket. He looked at Oliver, who had sat himself up. Another three beeps and by then Len was staring at his cellphone.

And as it rang again Len pressed the call button.

"Len!"

"Mum?"

Immediately Len could hear her breathe. "Good Len's safe."

"Is—anything wrong?"

The split second after that felt like an eternity. His heart had skipped a beat. Dread loomed over his vision and the silence deafened his ears.

"Rin is missing!"

"What?!"

Len took a deep breath and shifted around, though no position made it any less uncomfortable.

"Rin is gone. Just disappeared tonight and we can't contact her—oh—Len, happy you're safe."

...

"I'm coming over."

"What about school?"

"When my sister is missing? Besides, am—already in Jeppan."

"Huh?"

"No time to explain. I'll be there in about an hour."

Len hung up, dropped his phone into his pocket and looked to Oliver. Brows arched, Oliver raised his fist signalling he was ready to come.

**＊＊＊**

By the time they had reached Len's mansion, they were both sweating and panting. Oliver took a moment to gaze at the building, while Len caught his breath.

"You have a pretty big house," he said.

Len tilted his head. "Yeah? And don't you have a pretty big castle."

"I mean—" Oliver pouted for a split second, "you know what I mean."

Len tilted his head, "No I don't."

Oliver sighed, "Judging by your apartment back in Inglund, I thought you were..."

"Poor?"

"Something like that."

A pause.

"Didn't I tell you my family are singers?"

"Oh," Oliver said, eyes flickering, "well, yeah, but," he took a moment to think of a response, "I—thought maybe singers didn't earn that much." he giggled sheepishly. "Anyway, why did you choose such a small apartment?"

Len thought for a bit. "Was just sick of it I guess."

"Of the wealth?"

Len shook his head. "The things that came with it."

Oliver nodded. And for a second Len was taken by how Oliver seemingly understood, but quickly he realised that Oliver must've had to go through something worse.

...

"Come on, Let's get going."

"Mhm," Oliver said from behind as they ran. A couple dozen steps later, they reached the front door. Len pushed the bell on the side, and a classic ding-dong tune reverberated.

After a couple moments of quiet fiddling, the door clicked and opened. Immediately Len moved to hug his mother, and after a quick exchange of 'I miss you's Len's mother made notice of Oliver.

She pulled away and stared at him. "Oh. He... who is he?"

Len stammered, "Oliver."

"Hello, Oliver."

"Pleased to meet you—Madame?"

"Ah, Lenka is fine."

The faintest of smiles formed on Oliver's face as he blinked twice.

"Friend? He's very polite."

Len diverted his gaze and nodded. "A-Anyway what happened to Rin?"

"Let's talk inside."

They simultaneously nodded and entered the house. Len kept an eye on Oliver, to see what his first impressions were like. Well, Oliver looked around a bit, but he never really made any notable reaction.

_Of course. Has his own castle. What was I expecting._

...

"So," Len asked, "what happened?"

"We don't understand how it happened," Mum answered, "We called the police but—"

Len nodded. "Couldn't find anything?"

"Not yet," she said defeatedly.

Len bit his lip and glanced at Oliver to see if he had anything to say, but he just stood there more awkwardly, so Len just nodded and said what was on his mind, "I'm—sure she'll come back."

But that didn't help. Mum was still down and Oliver was still fiddling with his fingers behind him.

But just before Len could try again, a sudden voice came from the stairway, "Hey, Len——Len!"

Len turned to him and bit a smile. "Dad."

"How you been?" He asked, rubbing and squeezing Len's shoulder.

"I'm fine. Does—father know anything about Rin?"

He took a step back and frowned. "No," he said.

"Good that Len is worried about Rin right, hun. Our Len has grown to be a great man." He tried a laugh.

"Hush," She replied harshly, "Not in front of him. Spoiling him again."

"Da〜d" Len whined.

"Oh. Forget I said anything." He looked to Oliver. "Who's this boy here?"

"Oliver," Len said, "he's—he's a friend I made in Inglund."

_Sorry, Ollie._

"Ah, then nice to meet you," he said holding a hand out to Oliver.

Plainly Oliver took it and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you too."

"See, how great. I heard people shake their hands much more in the west," Dad said proudly. Then he turned to confirm, "Is that right?"

"Yes," Oliver replied with a nod.

"Hahahaha."

Len secretly rolled his eyes. His mum caught a glance of it but let it go.

"Len," Mum said, "are you staying? Oliver is welcome to stay too."

Len nodded, "yeah."

"How about you two go upstairs, and Len show your friend the guest room."

They both agreed, and after another long moment of listening to another one of Dad's 'I heard' stories, they were finally able to break away and head upstairs.

Len opened the door and in the instant excitement dropped. He was, frankly, looking forward to seeing his room again, but right then it just didn't feel right. No. Not at all. All the books he owned had always been left scattered carefully around the room, and to see them neatly tidied up on the shelf Father had gotten him three years ago—was less than satisfying.

Len walked in and sat himself on the king-sized bed, looked around as though he were new there. And well, at that point, he pretty much was. He probably wouldn't even be able to find half his stuff now.

Oliver closed the door behind him and the tension in the air vanished.

"Weren't you going to show me to the guest room?"

"You can—stay here," he said, blushing, "If you're okay with it—'ll get the spare bed up."

Oliver chuckled, "Well we've been sleeping in the same room for the past month now."

Len nodded.

"But what about your parents?"

"Oh, them?" Len looked up, "they'll... be okay with it. You're a boy so they won't—suspect anything."


	23. Chapter 23

The question that brought them there was so simple, so innocent. _Rin... what is she like?_ And now they're face to face with an artefact so unbelievable Oliver could sense Len's despair from a day away.

Indeed, a letter written in blood was something Oliver was fairly familiar with. Either a pact or some sort of threat. And with the scribbles and circles and triangles on the page, it didn't seem to be anywhere near the former.

"Len."

But he stayed silent. Oliver took it that he knew what it meant. After all, what other interpretation could there be.

Oliver tried imagining it, to maybe make it more bearable if the worst were to come. Rin's death, and Len grieving over it for weeks—maybe months. Self-hurt? Isolation? Who knows. And he'd be there useless. Of course he'd try to help. But will Len let him? Will he be able to help?

"Ollie," Len muttered in a low tone.

Oliver looked to him in the eyes and waited for him to continue.

"We can still save her right?"

Oliver half-nodded. "I can't tell what the letter is—"

"It's a map."

At that instant, it felt like half the weight had been lifted.

Len pointed to a seemingly random point in the scribble and said, "That sign is like a landmark around here..." From his tone Oliver could gather Len had already decided on going, even if—

"What if it's a trap."

For a second, the resolve on Len's face wavered but quickly he held it back up. "I still need to help her."

"You've only just learned a bit of magic. You can't stop them."

"Have to!" he said, "What else can I do?"

Oliver opened his mouth then froze. _Be safe,_ Oliver's mind wished to say but he knew Len wouldn't take it well. He knew Len wanted to run out and save her sister and deep inside Oliver had already understood that would happen.

After a moment Len relaxed his posture and uttered an apology, "Sorry. Shouldn't have shouted at you."

"No, it's okay."

"No it isn't," he uttered, clenched a handful of hair, paused for another few seconds, "but I really need to go."

Oliver let out a silent sigh.

"Y'don't have to come."

"No I will," Oliver replied immediately, "I can't let you go by yourself," he said, fixing Len with a fist half-raised.

"Oliver..."

"It's too dangerous."

"...thanks."

Oliver blinked, let his hand fall back as he processed. _What?_

"Hoped you were going to come with me but," Len exhaled, "well, didn't want to make you feel—forced."

Oliver took a deep breath before replying. "Len I'm already forced to come with you," he made a small laugh, "Crappy family. Crappy home."

Len frowned faintly.

"Great friend."

At that Len blushed and lightly shook his head. "Not true."

"It's true," Oliver asserted, "sure, you can be a bit—stubborn," he stressed that final word, "but you're so—well, caring and—"

"Ollie..."

_?_

Len took another deep breath. "Le—Let's go."

**＊＊＊**

The walls were made of stone—grey, cracked, dark. The floor was made of stone—eroded and broken and wet. The only light came from the medieval torches that burned a stench, illuminating only the hazards: potholes, pebbles, and broken splinters of mouldy wood.

Len and Oliver trudged carefully through the hallway, and with every step Oliver felt the foreboding stack sharper and sharper. He scanned his surroundings every other second, only ever glancing away to check Len, as they made their way to the throne room.

When the large wooden door was in sight, Len stopped in his tracks, and Oliver did too immediately after. Oliver wasn't sure if Len could feel it but a menacing aura had been leaking, radiating out of the gaps; the kind he'd only seen before on his brother.

Len made a confirming glance to Oliver before taking another step forward. By then Oliver knew they had chosen their path. There was no more room to be hesitant, he tried to convince himself.

Oliver felt heart pound to ears as he followed just behind Len, watching his every move, watching for anything that might jump them. Soon enough they both reached the door and both the raging stream of aura and the sheer tension made it unbearable.

Len put his hand on the door, pushed it open, and immediately he froze.

On the throne, a man that looked to be in his twenties—utterly clotheless—arms and chest, bulging, burly, and below—the rough, veined spear of flesh of twelve inches—and beside it, with arms loosely around the patriarch—a teen girl nude—with Len's yellow hair—Len's blue eyes. Oliver gasped; it was Rin.


	24. Chapter 24

Len looked stifled, pale. His eyes were shivering, his lips trembling. For more than a few times Len jerked forward and back. Oliver could tell what he was thinking. He wants to save her, but she is unsaveable.

"Rin!" Len shouted, perhaps for the slightest chance that she would remember him, break out of whatever spell she was in.

Oliver hoped too. But no, she stayed still, her eyes stayed still. She was like a statue.

Then her hand moved; she let out her claws and pointed it at Len. That was enough to strike Len. His breaths deepened and his eyes narrowed on her more. Oliver looked at the naked man and he was smirking, his hands running through her hair as if she were a doll.

Suddenly, Len lunged at the man. Oliver shouted at him to stop but he wasn't listening. He couldn't listen, of course. Len wasn't like that.

A mist swirled around Len's fist; he aimed to punch. But just as the aura formed a fire around him, the man moved his arm and Len was deflected with a boom. Oliver's heart skipped a beat and he wanted to flinch but he couldn't as Len crashed onto the wall.

The man raised his hand again.

And suddenly Revilo spoke. _Need help?_

Oliver shook his head, _No,_ and ran forward. He bore his claws and readied his aura to defend.

But this time Rin blocked his path. The swift movement jiggled her breasts and Oliver had to stop and suppress a cringe— _Len's twin sister_ , he thought, thought as he wavered between looking at her and avoiding. While Oliver was paralysed the man had stood up and now he was behind Rin. He pushed her to him and as Oliver felt contact he jumped back.

"Oh you don't want her?" he sneered.

Oliver glared at him.

Then a shout by Len. "Why did you do this?"

The man smiled and turned to him. "Why should I tell you?" His voice was rough and unpleasant.

"She's my sister."

"What importance does it have?" he scoffed, "Isn't your _boyfriend_ also a vampire?"

"I don't care that she's a vampire. I care about you controlling her, and turning her without her agreement," Len glared.

"Oh, who's to say I haven't."

Rin's arms moved, moved mechanically to wrap around the man; she opened her mouth and a delicate, but husky voice came out, "I like this."

"Liar. That's not Rin."

"Oh but it is."

"I like this."

"You're controlling her!"

"I am," the man said. And smiled.

Oliver bit his lip. He's provoking Len. To do what?

"If you must know," he said, "I'll tell you." He wrapped his arm around her, landed his hand on her breast.

Rin moaned and submitted to him. Looked at the man with glinting eyes and a semi-open mouth. Oliver slightly averted his eyes. The man's other hand was still on his side, and his face, and Oliver looked at Rin again but bolted his vision back up to his face.

Then the man smirked. "I like having more toys to play with."

Len stepped forward but just before he could attack again the man continued.

"My power," he said, "is sex. The more sex I have," the man's cock jumped in his excitement and that made Oliver cringe. And the man's face was twisted in a lustful grin. "I become stronger."

Len was gritting his teeth. He prepared another attack.

"But," he continued again, "I'll return her to you if you..."

Len stopped, but kept his fist and aura up.

"...trade him for her," he said, pointing at Oliver.

_What?!_

"No way." Len immediately said, rushing in with his fist. A small fireball formed around it but as he tried to throw the punch the man extinguished it without even a look.

When the man readied a sucker punch to counter Len, Oliver panicked and focused his energy to the ground and raised an earthen wall between them. Len had enough time to react and protect himself hitting the wall relatively unscathed but the man kept going with his punch shattering sending stones and billowing dust in all directions.

"Len!"

No response.

"Len!"

"I'm okay," he replied and immediately Oliver sighed and rushed to his position.

When Oliver found Len he was coughing, and he was bleeding everywhere. Definitely not okay. "Len we don't stand a chance."

"But—"

"Let's run for now. We can come back later."

The man's voice boomed again. Fear. "Discussing something? You know my offer still stands, Len."

"What if he leaves this place."

"Trust me, vampires never leave their castles—especially when only a couple little children find them."

Len bit his lip.

_Yes, little children, that's what we are right now._

"I'm sorry Oliver, I can't."

"Why not?"

"I can't back down now."

In that instant Oliver could burst. "Stop being so selfish!"

It seemed to have an impact on Len as he took a moment to process that. And as seconds ticked Oliver felt the sediments of regret deposit in his chest. _No, Oliver, you fucked up. There's no way that's going to help him stop._

After a while the dust settled down and the man was already back on his throne, caressing Rin gently as if she was a doll.

"If you're not going to accept my offer," he said, "then I'll turn both of you into my little toys," his sneer was chilling, "how about that? Which would you rather?"

In the blink of an eye, Rin was alone and the man appeared just in front of Len, staring into his eyes, hands on his face. Len was petrified. His eyes grew and shrink and his limbs were twitching like static.

"Well, you're going to be a hard one," he said, "but I'll take the challenge."

The man's hands were travelling down his clothing, feeling him through his clothing, feeling his body, the shape of his body. Oliver stepped forward but then the door blasted open. Everyone snapped their heads. Kiyoteru stood there. "Get your dirty hands off him."

The man frowned but complied.

Oliver took the chance to pull Len out of his range and to the door.

"Len, Oliver," Kiyoteru said.

Oliver stopped and looked at him. Though Len was still shaken.

"Len," he repeated, and this time Len nodded, but his breaths were still unsteady. "You were too rash," he said, "your impatience put both you and Oliver in danger."

Len opened his mouth and nodded. Oliver couldn't help but to feel a bit sorry for him.

"And Oliver," Kiyoteru said, and Oliver straightened up, "your confidence wasn't enough."

...

"Every move you made, you were hesistant, correct?"

Oliver nodded.

"A strong opponent like him can take advantage of that to attack."

_...nod._

"Now run," he said, "return to headquarters."

"But—"

"I'll be fine here by myself. Go."

Oliver looked to Len. His expression told him Len still wasn't fully ready to leave, but—

"Come on, Len," Oliver took his hand, "we'll let Mr Kiyoteru handle this."

Len didn't respond but followed anyway.

The moment Oliver closed the door behind him, explosions and impacts ringed their ears. Len still looked worried, and Oliver couldn't help but to feel it too.


	25. Chapter 25

Oliver sat on the carpeted floor. The air was thick, like glue, and really Oliver didn't know how to dissolve any of it. So he just sat there, hummed a tune in his mind as his fingers tapped to the rhythm. Oliver glanced at Len sitting on his bed every now and then to check on him. But the boy didn't really do much; he just sat there as if in deep thought, kicking a leg maybe once or twice every minute.

He wondered what Len was thinking. Kiyoteru? Rin? —or Both? And when he brushed it off as futile to guess he found himself thinking.

_Is Kiyoteru strong enough? Will he win? What'll happen if he loses? Count forbid he turn him too. What would he—_

Oliver jumped as Len's voice broke the thought, a dreary stream of words. "Do you think Rin will be okay?"

 _Of course_ , Oliver reminded himself, _Of course he was most worried about Rin._

"I..." Oliver trailed off to think—thinking—"I'm not sure, but if Mr Kiyoteru can defeat him, I'm sure there'll be a way to turn her back."

Len lowered his face, and with it, Oliver's hope came crashing; the shadow of Len's own hair covered the dark, lonely grimace, and in it, Len muttered... "He will."

Oliver opened his mouth but stopped himself from speaking. He hesitated and Kiyoteru's words echoed in his mind. He tried to not think about that but quickly his mind stopped him from even doing that.

"He will," Len said, "he has to."

"And what if he doesn't."

"He has to."

Oliver stayed silent, and stayed asat down on the carpeted floor. The air aged thicker. Like dried glue. So he just sat there as narrative by narrative, he pondered on how to help Len; narrative by narrative, he wondered if he could help Len.

**＊＊＊**

Three days passed and without improvement. Len slowly withdrew further and further into his cave, now refusing to even talk to Oliver. For more than a couple of times Oliver tried to near Len but every time he simply jerked away. Oliver never went further than this. He knew there would be consequences if he did. So he had tried to support him from outside. Food. Water. Sometimes a few words to which Len blankly nodded.

Today was different. Len hadn't eaten for 24 hours and now Oliver was worried sick. Oliver approached the figure curled up on the corner of his bed. For a long moment he just stared at him as fear trickled in his chest. He waited and hoped that maybe Len would say something, and that would save him from being the one making the initiative.

But Len didn't notice.

Oliver took a deep breath, in, and out, and then he was back staring at Len. This time, he held that pesky 'what if' voice back and as his heart bade him, he got on the bed to sit beside Len.

No movement.

"Len," Oliver said, looking up to nowhere in particular.

No answer.

"Len, I know how you feel."

"No you don't," replied his hoarse voice.

Oliver closed his eye and took a few deep breaths, then waited for another moment to calm his heart down.

"Len, how about we train for a bit? If we can get stronger—"

"No use—I... I'm too weak."

"You're not. You've only just learned magic. There's no way you could have caught up to a monster who's practised it for centuries."

Len nodded weakly.

_Not helping huh?_

Oliver sighed. "Len," this time he tried to be stern, "you should—"

Suddenly Len broke out in a run. He slammed the door open and rushed out. His shirt got caught on the doorframe but that barely slowed him as he just pulled it—ripped—and ran away.

For a couple of breaths Oliver stayed there shocked, watched the door as the sharp steps faded. And the second his senses returned Oliver got up and bolted after Len. He jumped down the stairs in pursuit and followed him out of the building, then, "James," Oliver called as he placed his finger beside his pocket. James popped out and perched on his finger; he raised his wings, and as Oliver raised him up he flew off to the orange sky.

Oliver closed his eye and stopped briefly. A vision rippled in. James had found Len and was now following him closely from above. Oliver opened his eye and started back up; he ran and dodged the crowds of people walking and biking and shopping, keeping tabs on his left eye to see where Len was going. It wasn't easy. Even on the fifth turn Oliver found himself tired—exhausted. But he must persevere.

It went for minutes and minutes and hours and hours and as midnight struck, Len finally stopped. Somewhere in a grove. James had perched on a tree behind him so he could see nothing more but his shadow, but still, with the finish line in sight, Oliver pushed forward with all the might he had left.

Finally, he could see Len; in front of him the giant waxing moon. Oliver took a step forward, inhaled as he looked up at Len, and as he took another step he noticed: Len's clothes were all ripped—like a werewolf's after they had just fully transformed. You could see his skin, red and grazed and bruised. And it wasn't just his shirt. His pants were also utterly ruined.

"Len."

He stayed quiet.

Oliver took another two steps and called again. "Len."

Len turned slightly and looked to him, tears in eyes.

And as his heart leapt Oliver rushed forward. Len turned fully to him and Oliver wrapped his arms tight around him. Len returned the hug. Oliver could feel Len's tears wet his shoulder and Oliver cried too, unstoppingly.

"Le-n," he said, as he wiped his tears on Len's shirt, "Len Len. Len! Le-en."

Len tightened his embrace. "Oliver."

"Are you okay now?" Oliver asked, pulling away to look at him, his frown.

Len looked away and his tears started again. He clenched his fist, scrunched his face as he tried to stop it but it kept running. Oliver lightly rubbed his back as his mouth opened and closed.

"Oliver," Len said, "I'm—sorry."

Oliver shook his head but before he could say anything Len continued.

"Selfish. 've been so selfish. Never listened to you, even when I know you're right," then he scrunched his face as he held back a cry, "I'm such a bad boyfriend."

"Len, you're a great boyfriend."

"Ollie—" he said, wheezed, "—stop making excuses for me. You know my flaws. You know how selfish I am. You know how I never listen to you, even when you always listen to me."

Oliver stayed quiet.

"If it weren't for me. You probably wouldn't be here suffering. You wouldn't need to keep stretching your hand to help me."

"But I'd rather be with you."

"No you don't."

Oliver bit his lip.

"See? I did it again. Can't even control it for fuck's sake. Can't even stop myself from——"

...

"So, why don't you—find someone better than me. I'm sure you can find someone. Been doing it for years haven't you? Just need to get that right guy——" Len closed his mouth, clenched it shut, and looked away.

Oliver took Len on the chin and lightly tugged his head to face him. "I don't care," he said, "I don't care if I can find another guy. I can—if I want to, but I don't. Len. Sure, you aren't perfect. I know you aren't. I knew that. I know that. But we can work on that. Together. Nobody's perfect. But I know you're right for me."

Len's frown wavered into a smile and back, and his tears sparkled in joy and back. "Ollie."

"Len. You're a good person. Do you want me to tell you something?"

Len looked away and nodded.

"There's a spell that can turn humans into vampires."

Len nodded.

"But it has a catch. You can only turn someone whose heart is already dark. And Len, you—you're one of the people that we can't turn. That's why Yohio hates our relationship so much."

Len took a deep breath, as if to take all of it in, and then he nodded and tears started to flow again. "But... what about Rin?" Len asked, "was—her heart—?"

Oliver sadly nodded. "But—that doesn't mean her heart was dark to start with. There are also ways to corrupt a person's heart, but it takes time to do," he said, "that was what that man wanted to do to you before..."

Len's face dropped again as he nodded.

"Len."

"Why—can't you turn me that way?"

The question rang an alarm in Oliver's head, and he shook his head vigorously.

"What if I wanted to—"

"I won't do it," he said, "Even if you become a vampire that way Yohio won't like it. The vampires won't like it. They only do that to get slaves. And—even if I could do it, Len, and Yohio would accept you, I wouldn't. Being a vampire is a curse. A curse."

"Because you need to drink blood to survive?"

"No. —Well, yes, but it's not just that. Vampires—a lot of us have this really—deep thirst for power. Which is why we still have all these corrupt monarchies and slavery, and why my dad has seven wives. And why my mum——It really isn't fun, unless you're one of those people who don't care about other people, and if you happen to be the lucky ten or so out of the thousands there are."

Len looked down.

Oliver stepped forward and wiped away his tears. "I love you. Nothing Hio—or any other vampire would say will ever change that. So, what do you say? How about we face them together?"

For a moment Len looked uneasy, but then he smiled faintly, and nodded.

They sat down on the grass, and each of their legs, arms, were still intertwined as they cuddled for warmth. A while passed before they pulled away satisfied. Then Oliver noticed they were just beside a lake. Clear, pristine water topped with leaves and flower petals, pink and white. It was beautiful, yet Oliver couldn't help but to frown.

Then he felt a finger collect his tear. It was smooth when it touched him, and so warm it dispelled all his thoughts. Oliver turned and saw Len, smiling so purely at him. Oliver took a deep breath. *Len's scent. Len's scent. Strong. Mmm.*

"Len, you need to shower," Oliver laughed a little.

Len exhaled, "yeah, getting a bit unbearable to even me."

Suddenly Oliver leaned in, onto Len's neck, and licked. Len flinched slightly but didn't move. Oliver licked again and the taste flooded his senses. Sharp, strong, but wonderful. There were no words for it. It wasn't just salty or sweet or sour.

Oliver savoured the taste for another few moments as he sniffed Len's scent again.

"What're you doing?" Len asked, seemingly confused.

"Hm?" Oliver pulled back, opened his eyes and smiled, "I just wanted to know how you taste."

"Eww," Len feigned disgust, "even when you know I haven't showered for days?"

"It's pretty cold here so you don't smell that stale," Oliver explained, "and besides you were just running, and us Vampires like sweat, remember?"

Len raised his hand to his hair, "Oh, u-uhm, yeah."

"I can tell you, you taste amazing. Absolutely delectable."

"—very reassuring."

Oliver laughed and Len followed suit. It went for a while before they were back to hugging each other. And this time Oliver could hear Len sniff him.

"Smells good too."

Oliver held back another laugh, and he could feel Len form a smile.

"Us vampires don't even sweat much."

"Well, you still smell good."

Oliver pulled back and they locked their gazes. Len. Oliver's heart beat—thumped—raced—deafened. His eyes lidded as it overcame him. Oliver leaned forward slightly and Len closed the gap between their lips.

It wasn't like their first one. The moment Oliver touched Len he could feel his heart explode in a thousand colours. He could feel their souls connect, he could feel one with Len. Oliver tightened their embrace and let himself melt in the heat. Warm. Warm—

_Len. Len. Len._

And he could feel Len was enjoying it too. Just as much as him. In the moment when nothing else mattered.

_Love. I love. Len._

When he was finally full Oliver pulled away. He looked into Len's calm blue eyes and he saw himself in there. He knew they were the same. It was ten degrees outside but inside they felt warm. Inside, their love fuelled a passion to fight whatever the world would throw at them.

**＊＊＊**

The river water was cold, but their love made it comfortable. Oliver was sitting on the edge, and Len was completely naked; his head rested on Oliver's thigh, just above the water; his body was half submerged, in the shallow edge of the lake.

Oliver took a handful of water and gently washed Len's upper chest. Len looked so calm, relaxed.

Oliver gazed at Len's form. He was both nothing and everything Oliver imagined him to be. He was fairly slim and his skin was smooth. His nipples were a healthy hazel brown and cute. He washed it again and lovingly, gently caressed him. Len hummed and Oliver knew that meant he liked it.

Oliver took Len's arms and rinsed it with water as he rubbed it. Len opened his eyes and looked at Oliver, and Oliver looked back to smile. Len closed back his eyes and Oliver continued.

Then he moved down to his belly, soft, but firm. It calmly rose and fell as Len breathed. For some reason that made Oliver calm too. He poured water on it and scrubbed it with his palm. He avoided being too gentle for fear of tickling Len.

His penis was a modest size, soft. Oliver found himself wondering how much it'd grow. The hair around it was just as yellow as his head's; his balls were tucked in the cold. Oliver poured water around it and carefully rubbed. Len let out a light moan. Oliver smiled, and took another handful of water, and gently cleaned him.

Then his legs. It was clear the Len didn't do much walking or running before they met. They were built just enough, but still carried some of the little fat he had. Oliver splashed it with some water and ran his hand back and forth. Len shifted and hummed and smiled, and that made Oliver's heart settle in content.

**＊＊＊**

The night air was cold, and their love made it comfortable. Oliver sat just by the lake's edge and now Len was lying down on the green grass, still naked. They both smiled as Oliver laid back just next to him. They watched the stars twinkle so softly in the sky, still. And in the night when stars don't fall, they exchanged their promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ※ Sorry I'm late. I had to pull an all nighter to do some homework and at the end of it I was way too tired to edit properly.
> 
> As you can probably see my intentions with this chapter are all over the place. There are a few things here that I don't really like anymore but I realised I'd probably end up cringing over this whole book really hard in several months anyway so I just let it go. (Better upload shit than nothing.)
> 
> Gosh darn I really need to learn how emotions work before writing about it like this.
> 
> Feedback would be very much appreciated.


	26. Chapter 26

When the man readied a sucker punch to counter Len, Oliver focused his energy to the ground, and raised an earthen wall between them. Len panicked, but had enough time to react and protect himself, letting him hit the wall relatively unscathed. But, the man kept going with his punch, shattering the rocks, sending stones, and billowing dust in all directions.

Len tried to guard himself, but the storm of sharp stones pelted his body, and left him in an aching mess of wounds. He could hear Oliver's faint voice call from the other side of the room but he was stifled by the dust; he couldn't call back. Whenever he tried, only a hoarse, muffled voice came out.

When the dust started to settle Len could finally see again. The first he saw was the vampire man: the damning rapist murderer son-of-the-unholy-bitch. Smiling, no, smirking—and as the dust settled further two more figures appeared beside him. One was Rin, holding a knife, and the other Kiyoteru. Kiyoteru's clothes were ripped so badly it were as though he didn't wear any. But, his privates remained covered and Len was very thankful for that.

Len put in his ready stance and waited for them to move, but none of them did. They were still, like a picture. Then he looked left and right for Oliver but he wasn't there. Finally, as the final clouds of dust disappeared, he could see the boy on the throne. His left half was Revilo and his left eye glowed red; his right eye was the same honey-gold but now there was no love, no care, only malice. Oliver was naked—like the man, and erect, like the man. He smirked, and as he opened his mouth—

"Len!"

The image quickly dissolved and Len jolted up—threw his quilt off the bed. He panted, panted, breathed, and looked around the room. Nothing. Nothing. It was just a dream. He could feel the sweat rolling down his right and hear from under the blanket ghost, Oliver's breathing as he removed the quilt from his face.

"Len," he said, "are you okay?"

Len gulped and tentatively nodded. He looked at the wall clock. Two hours past midnight.

"You were groaning and kicking in bed, I got really worried. Did you have a bad dream?"

Again, Len blankly nodded.

Oliver half-sat on the edge of the bed facing Len. "D'you—want to tell me about it?"

Len hesitated, began to shake his head, but quickly he changed it to a nod. Oliver looked intently and carefully at Len, and Len felt it slightly uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to say but his vocal cords jammed. He didn't want to hurt Oliver's feelings.

"If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay."

Len started to nod but then shook his head. "Say," he said, looking into Oliver's eye, then looking away. "We were back at the castle. That guy's."

Oliver tightened his lips and nodded.

Len opened his mouth again and as his heart trembled his lips trembled. His thoughts and his vision quaked and he closed his eyes to regain himself. One moment. Two. Then Len began to tell Oliver everything.

"...and well," each breath was now sharp, "Then when looking up, saw—" Pain, "—I saw you, on—on that man's throne," Len reflexively bit his lip but he continued, "you were— you were—" Len's breath quivered and he shook his hands trying to regain himself but it just made him lose more.

Oliver stepped forward and rubbed Len's shoulder. The emergency signals started to drown and the world slowly returned. The wall began to show its softness again, and the yellow light's warmth returned. Oliver's eye was as mesmerising as ever, and it calmed his heartbeat down.

"Shhh," Oliver said, so softly, "It's okay, it was just a dream."

"But you were—on the——and Revilo was there—and you looked—" Len gritted his teeth, "He—" Len felt a tear roll down his right eye. "I—sorry."

Oliver tilted his head. "Sorry?"

Len stayed quiet. He peeked at Oliver and then returned to his feet. "I—dreamed that you were an enemy..."

"Nightmares don't mean anything," Oliver said, "I won't let myself hurt you," he said. He closed his eyes, closed his fist and took a deep breath. "I'll—I'll never forgive myself if—"

"Oliver, if you had no choice."

"It doesn't matter," he said... "it doesn't matter, because I won't. I won't. I'll kill myself before I have to—"

"Don't say that!"

Oliver blinked and frowned. A tear of regret zigzagged down his face and then Oliver and Len sat themselves side by side. They connected their hands, let their fingers intertwine and feel a tingling warmth course through their veins. After a moment Len felt courage. "We'll—be together," he said, "If anything happens to you, it'll happen to me too. Then you won't need to worry about hurting me."

"But if I were caught, and you had the chance to run?"

"I'll save you."

"But—"

"You'd do it to me too," Len said and looked at Oliver. Their eyes locked. Len smiled, and Oliver turned to a smile, and before long their lack of sleep took over. Len yawned and before Oliver could tease him, Oliver yawned louder. Len laughed at this and Oliver blushed and smiled, and then they were back to looking at each other.

"Let's sleep?" Len asked.

Oliver hummed. "Yeah," he said, getting up and walking back to his bed.

A new loneliness grew within Len's heart, and it bade for him to speak up. "Can we sleep—"

Oliver turned his head to listen.

_Too late to back out now._

"Can we sleep together?"

Oliver turned to him fully as he seemed to take in what Len had just said. The few seconds in waiting for the answer was tremendously difficult. Every swing in Oliver's hair, every heartbeat and every breath suddenly became deafening. The air molecules sliding down his windpipe suddenly became painful, and Oliver. He nodded.

"Sure," he said, his breaths were audible, "c'mon."

Len lit up and ran to his side. Oliver held back a laugh and Len felt slightly embarrassed. Oliver was first to climb onto the bed. He lifted the blanket up and with a soft voice, with his soft eyes, invited for Len to come in. At that moment Len could almost jump and pounce on Oliver and they would have an amazing night of just cuddling and teasing and loving each other and maybe they could also talk to each other all night about their likes and dislikes, their lives and their dreams... but he was too sleepy for that. He knew the time would come later and that was enough for him then. He got on the bed and snuggled himself onto Oliver's chest before placing his head on the pillow.

Oliver laughed and did the same. It tickled and flushed a warmth into Len that made him feel as though he was floating under yellow sun. When Oliver stopped Len wondered if he would ever survive sex with Oliver. But that thought was quickly swept away when Oliver popped back into vision, smiling. Their eyes locked again and their breathing synced. Their eyes became languorous—only half-open as they struggled to stay for another half-second. And together, as they locked themselves in a secure hug, they fell asleep.


	27. Chapter 27

Len threw a punch but Oliver quickly dodged it. Len clenched his jaw and watched Oliver to predict his next move. Suddenly Oliver charged in, and Len quickly withdrew his arms to guard, but even then Oliver broke through with a sweep and with his other hand, jabbed Len in the stomach.

Len yelped and coughed, and held his tummy as he dropped to his knees.

The pain was sharp-blunt. His skin itched and his insides felt like they'd just been liquefied. It reminded him a bit of when Yohio kicked him, but it was definitely less painful.

Len felt Oliver's hand on his shoulder, and in the instant he wondered how such a soft hand could hurt you so badly. Or maybe he's just weak. Len's just that weak?

"Sorry," Oliver mumbled, guilt riddled in his tone, "I guess I went a bit too hard with that one."

Somehow, in the pain, a small laugh found it's way out. "You're—mmngh—so strong, Ollie."

Oliver blushed from the praise and shook his head. "You're getting better too, Len," he said, "I was getting excited at the end there."

Len smiled.

"So, do you want to continue?"

Len searched his body. His arm, his chest, his stomach, his legs... all numbing in pain. But he still wanted to get better. Better. He still wanted to get stronger.

"We could just work with magic if it still hurts."

Len pondered on it. He wanted to continue, but magic training didn't sound so bad. He could still get stronger. "Sounds good," he said.

And quickly Oliver closed his eyes and sensed as he walked. Len watched him as he glided gracefully with his searching fingers. His face was calm; so calm it made him shine. It made Len's heart jump, just as it would whenever he thinks of being with Oliver. Or whenever he is with Oliver.

"Here," Oliver called, "There's one over here."

Len nodded and quickly ran over, sitting opposite to Oliver, equidistant from the marked point. They closed their eyes and focused.

Len felt around, sent exploring senses to find it, and when he did, he could see and hear it, like a rushing river just in front of him, full of energy, force, strength.

"Ready?" Oliver called out.

"Yeah," Len replied and quickly Len tried to bend it close to him. But Oliver was strong. As much as Len tried—as hard as he pulled with his mind—the river meandered to Oliver. But Len kept trying, he tried controlling it with his full might, he tried twisting his face in try and for a second it shook, it wavered between; it vibrated, sending shockwaves of energy that made Len's hair stand but ultimately Len felt he reached his peak. He kept trying and trying but he could feel the loss slowly cloud over him. He didn't want to lose. But Oliver was stronger. But he can't lose! Then suddenly a jolt—the image of Kiyoteru from his dream, Rin's submission and that guy's evil sneer. Len flinched and lost his footing in its wake; he felt his body limp, carried away by the current and a thud and his head started to ache.

Pain—pain—nothing else. His ears rang and in the distance, he could hear someone call out his name. Len wanted to answer but all that came out were groans of agony. Len felt someone touch his head and something soft below it. Soft. Something he slept on before. Soft. Something he loved.

As the pain slowly eased away the sounds became clearer. "Len! Len!" it called. The voice was so familiar, but as much as he tried he couldn't put a name on it. And yet it still made him feel content, safe, and slowly, as the pain became bearable his consciousness slipped away.

**＊＊＊**

Even when Len had just passed out, somewhere within him a voice echoed for more training, more strength. He needed to get better. For Rin's sake. For Oliver's sake. For his sake.

Oliver leaned on the elevator wall as he rubbed his eye, and Len watched him intently. As the elevator shook Oliver yawned and somehow looking at Oliver like that made Len a little sleepy.

Suddenly the bell dinged and the doors slid mechanically open. Oliver was first to get out and Len followed closely behind. But as they walked quietly through the hallway, the sound of slow, reverberating steps approached them. And it wasn't the casual, heartbeat kind. It was the kind that came from someone sure, someone who was ready.

Oliver raised his hand in preparation and Len followed. In the distance a figure appeared. Red. Len sensed that Oliver knew who it was, and that was enough to confirm his suspicion. Step by step, the figure grew, and slowly Len could make out a slight grin on his face. Fukase only looked at them for an instant before returning his gaze to somewhere generally behind them. Near by near Len's heart raced in anticipation. He watched him carefully from ten steps away... Five... Three... Two and One and they as they passed Fukase didn't give them even a single glance. Len looked back to check on him further but he just kept walking on.

When they were just out of earshot distance Len asked what just happened but Oliver shook his head and shrugged. His expression hinted that he was just as distraught by the strange encounter. But then as they approached their room they noticed, a millimetre of paper poking through the underdoor gap.

Len glanced at Oliver to check his reaction but Oliver's expression was still. Oliver stepped forward and crouched down. He pulled the paper by friction and lifted it up—a letter. Closed, enveloped, formal-looking—scary. Though he wasn't sure if it was the thing or just the fact that it was most likely, no, definitely from Fukase.

Oliver held it tight and reached with his other hand the door handle. He turned it as he stood up, and as he entered he cocked his head, beckoning for Len to come in quickly.

Len took a deep breath and nodded. Oliver stood waiting inside and Len pushed the door aclose behind him. A couple heartbeats passed as Oliver stared at the mysterious thing, but finally, he opened the envelope and took out the paper inside it.

Len scanned Oliver's expression for clues. But Oliver's face kept still. His eye was fixed, his mouth was fixed, but Len could sense something shiver slightly—his eyelids and cheek, and even his hand—as if in terror, and that made Len race.

"Here," Oliver said softly.

Len walked over and Oliver handed him the message.

In messy red ink, it wrote, 'Come or she dies.'

Blood.

Len felt a pin stab his heart, and the juice ooze out of it slowly. Crawling down like thick paint from his chest down to his stomach, it left him breathing in agony. He looked to Oliver, who frowned.

"Have to go," Len muttered.

"I'm not stopping you," replied Oliver, "I'll go too."

Len grit his teeth.

"He wanted me remember? It won't do any good for you to come alone."

"But—" _There's no buts Len, you know it, he knows it. You're being selfish again._

"I will go, Len. And... I know what you're thinking. Even if you choose not to, I'm still going."

"Oliver!"

"It's okay, I'm not going to die or anything like that," Oliver said, "that man never showed any intention to kill us—if he did he would've already done that."

...

"If he holds his end of the deal Rin won't die, and either way I'll still be alive."

"We'll go together."

Oliver stared at Len for a while and Len stared at him back with certainty. Then, as Oliver's expression softened,

he hesitantly nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback pls.


	28. Chapter 28

The man smiled, a malicious smile, and beside him was a black-haired girl, naked and clinging onto the man as if for dear life. Len looked at his other side, looked down, below his throne, and even its edges but—no Rin.

Deep breath. In. Out. But it didn't help. He was petrified—but his ears could still hear the deafening drums. His arms weakened and his legs weakened and as his stomach twisted his vision blurred.

"Where is Rin?" Oliver shouted.

"She got boring after a while," the man said, "so I, locked her up."

"And where's Kiyoteru?"

"Ah, that teacher of yours?" he mocked, "It's sad but—he died."

Warm blood coursed through his arms, legs, chest, head. And as he focused, energy gathered around him in a raging swirl.

"Len."

The mindhaze cleared, and the spiralling streams of energy calmed down: consistent and warm. Len glanced a quick eye at Oliver who made a faint, proud smile, and had also started preparing for the man's attack.

"Oh? I thought you came here to join me," the man said, frowning.

"You only told us to come," Len replied, "and even if you did tell us to, we wouldn't do it."

The man sighed, knowingly, and sneered again. "Well, at least I'll have a bit more fun now," he laughed, "it's always better when the _uke_ puts up a fight."

Oliver whispered, "What's an _uke_?"

"A bottom," answered Len. And as he peeked to see Oliver's reaction, Len could swear he saw Oliver blush for an instant, even if it was extremely slight.

Suddenly, as a cloud blocked the moonlight, a boom—the man disappeared. Left, right, up and he was there, above. Len bolted away and as the man crashed, Len flinched from the sound. But as soon as he regained control he looked back up and the man hadn't moved from the impact crater. And Oliver—he was on the other side.

"So," he said, half his face shadowed under his hair, "which one of you will come first?"

Len gritted his teeth and assumed a fighting stance in preparation. But as the man raised a hand, vegetation—roots—tentacles grew out of the stone walls and curled itself around Len's arms, around his legs, slid and scratched along, and pulled him, slammed him to the wall and tightened him there.

Len tried pulling back—but it was like rubber; he couldn't even pull an inch before the roots snapped his hand back. He tried struggling even further but the more he moved the tighter it wrapped around him; the more he fought the more it crawled and slid and violated him.

"Len!" Oliver cried, but the man stared at him and he stayed cautious.

"You're first," the man said, licking his lips as he sauntered towards Oliver.

Len panicked, and a surge of power. Tightened his skin, a chilling burn, and the roots burst in flames. It shrivelled and crackled in agony, and as it turned black-fragile, Len pulled to break free.

The man stopped. Then he turned to Len and clapped. "Congratulations," he said, "you've improved."

The man put his left hand down and faced his right palm towards Len. A drop of sweat broke down the back of his neck and his feet were ready to jump away.

"I'll just have to deal with both of you at the same time then," he said. "Come!"

He raised his hands towards Len and Oliver and a light gathered around them—but before he could attack a slit of white cut through—followed by a sharp metal cling and a forsaken groan. The man's body collapsed in halves and behind him stood a man with dark blue hair. A man wielding a silver metal sword glinting cleanly in the moonlight, and in a grey brown cloak spattered with dirt and holes and cuts.

"Are you two okay?" he said.

Len nodded. "Y-Yes."

Then he walked to him, curiously scanned his expression, his clothing, his weapon. And Oliver approached him, carefully, his eyes watching his other side, scrutinising every little detail.

"I'm on your side," he said, "My name is Kaito."

"That's what they all say," Oliver replied, "but—" he glanced to the dead man, "since you did help us out," Oliver trailed off and looked at Len, "we'll trust you."

"I'm Len—and he's Oliver."

Kaito nodded simply, but provided no other response. Expressionless, as though pensive... and he didn't even try to make any eye contact.

Oliver stared at him for a moment, and as soon it was clear that he had nothing else to say, Oliver looked to Len. "Len, let's go," he said, "we need to find Rin."

Len nodded. "But," he said, thinking, "where is she?"

Kaito cleared his throat, "if you're looking for someone they're probably in the dungeon."

"Dungeon?"

"Vamps like him keep their slaves in a dungeon," Kaito said, "but where it is I don't know."

"I do," Oliver said, beckoning for the two to come with him.

**＊＊＊**

In the hallway a cold breeze blew. The fire on the torches wavered, dimmed and brightened, and as they walked Len could hear soft murmuring from within the walls.

Oliver stopped in front of a reinforced door. "They're here," he said.

Len pushed the door open, and light flooded into the room. Piles of naked bodies both dead and alive, humans and vampires, males and females from children to adults. They all crept away from the light, avoided the light, and their eyes watched Len with a flickering fear. But one stood up, and came out of the shadow. Rin. Her mouth, neck, breasts were covered in dried blood, and on her skin were scratch wounds, bruises—all too many to count.

"Len?" she said, and when Len heard her the world pulsed, "Len, why are you here?"

"You—are back!"

Rin nodded. "Master only controls us when we're around him."

"Then, why didn't you run?" Len asked.

"Can't. He'll know, and if he catches us he'll——kill us."

Len looked at her, looked at her wounds again and frowned. Suddenly footsteps, from behind Rin another girl appeared. She had teal hair and blue eyes and—clearly just as battered up as Rin.

"Rin," she said, "you... know him?"

Rin nodded, "he's my brother," and then she looked back at Len, "is it safe?"

Len nodded.

Then Oliver stepped forward, into the doorway. "That guy's dead," he said, "you can all leave now."

The eyes looked at him, looked at each other and the ambivalent whispers began to form. But slowly, after the first brave one stepped foot into the light, the other began to follow. They formed a steady line as they walked out to the hallway. Len studied them all; They were grungy, bloody—some had bite marks on them on the strangest places: from chests to arms and even their groins. Len tried to avoid looking at them for the mere sight of it made him cringe in pain, but he was still intrigued.

"Len," Oliver said, and Len's face snapped at him. Oliver covered his mouth and giggled. "Let's all go too."

Len smiled back, and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback would be very much appreciated ^^
> 
> Here are some questions I have if you don't know where to start:
> 
> Were there any parts/specific things that you liked?
> 
> Were there any parts/specific things that you disliked? Or at least parts that pushed you out of the story?
> 
> What emotions, if any, did you go through while reading? In a good way or bad way?
> 
> Did anything in this chapter make you think? In a good way or bad way?
> 
> Any other comments regarding on how I can improve my work, or skills as a writer?


	29. Chapter 29

In the forest, the wind howled darkly, and the trees rustled their leaves in the wind. The filtering streams of moonlight shuffled and reshuffled, leaving static noise on the forest floor.

"...Do you—really think she'll be fine with it?" Rin asked.

"Yeah," Len answered, "Mum's really worried about you."

Rin nodded, but her smile told that she was still unsure. She looked to Miku, who grinned at her, then to Len, who gave her a sympathetic look. "It's just that," she crossed her arms, hugged herself, "there are so many things——"

"Look, Rin," Len said, "if you're also worried about introducing Miku too, I can come out first."

She nodded gratefully.

Oliver offered, "And I can talk to them about being a vampire."

"Thank you," Rin said, and glanced at Miku. "But what if—if they don't—"

"We'll be with you," Len said, "And if that happens, there's also a place you can stay, over east, but I'm sure Mum will still love you."

Rin nodded, held back a small laugh and smiled.

For a moment, the group grew quiet, and the sound of footsteps and rustling leaves took over. Then suddenly, Rin stopped, and her face paled.

"What's the matter?" Len asked.

"Vampires now... do we _need_ to drink blood?"

Oliver nodded. "U-Uh, hm."

Miku asked, "Human blood?" She looked a bit too excited.

"Err," Oliver scratched his head, "you don't _have_ to have human."

Rin laughed, "Master—him—he feeds us rabbit blood once every few days." Then she made a twisted frown.

Oliver nodded.

Miku placed a finger on her chin, "I wonder what human blood tastes like."

Oliver fiddled with his coat, looked away and looked at Len, who was still walking normally. He thought about avoiding the question, but it didn't feel right to just ignore a boyfriend's sister's girlfriend... right? He opened his mouth, quivered, and finally spoke, "Well, they taste, creamier—and richer—and has less of that rotten stench, usually."

"Ooooh,"

Immediately Oliver regretted his decision.

"Any chance we'll get to try some?" Miku asked, nudging Rin who silently blushed

_For an ex-human she really doesn't care huh?_

Oliver sucked his lip in and bit it. He looked at Len who seemed way too nonchalant about this. But then a glint at the edge caught his eye. The twinkling of streetlights and neon signs. "Look," Oliver said, pointing.

"You still haven't answered my question."

Oliver grinned sheepishly and quietly sighed. "Well it's up to you," he said, "if you don't mind killing people."

Miku shrugged, then went on, "Will you show us then?"

Oliver looked at Len again. He looked back this time but he didn't seem to care about the fact that his boyfriend is talking about killing someone. His eyes looked down, and his hands were slightly open.

_That dork._

Oliver connected his hand to Len's before replying, "There isn't—really much to show."

"Oh but surely—"

"As long as you can pick one out from a crowd and lure them—or drag them—into somewhere nobody can see, or hear, you're done,"

_When you put it that way..._

_I know I know—_

_You make them sound like—_

_Okay I get it!—_

"Oliver,"

Oliver jumped and looked at Len, before averting his gaze. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I was just talking to Rev."

Len squeezed his hand and a jolt ran through his body. Worries melted. But one remained.

_Len... I don't want to—hurt—you._

**＊＊＊**

After a tiring effort of walking home while avoiding the public eye, they arrived back at Len's mansion. Oliver and Len waited just behind, as Rin raised her fist and made two excited knocks. A second of silence. Then a voice from inside.

"Coming!"

Rin immediately turned to Miku, then to Len, smiling. Then as she rubbed her arms and walked in place, the door clicked open.

Immediately Lenka jumped back, her eyelids snapped open and her hands went up to her mouth in shock. "My—Rin!" she said as she approached her. She studied her body, then she looked to Len, and Miku, and Oliver. "Where are your clothes?" she asked.

Rin put a hand behind her and fiddled with her fingers, "it's a long story."

"Well, come in then," she said.

Rin nodded, and pulled Miku in. Oliver was going to enter but as he raised his foot Len took a step. Oliver paused and looked to Len's face for confirmation, but he seemed just as distraught. Suddenly, a ghost-chilly breeze made him shiver, and as he peeked at Len he saw him rubbing his arms for warmth.

"Y-you first," Len said, as he redacted his foot.

Oliver peered away and contemplated on letting Len go first. But he figured that would make things more awkward so with folded hands he walked into the house.

For over an hour, Len, Rin, and Oliver had to explain to Lenka about vampires. It was arduous. She kept asking questions like 'how did Rin become a vampire?' Oliver tried to avoid it, and Len and Rin tried to avoid it, but Lenka was insistent. Eventually, though, Rin let Oliver tell her. He tried to coat his words with a bit of honey but in the end she caught on, and judging by her reaction, she wasn't very happy about it.

"...Oh and, her," Lenka pointed at Miku, "was also a victim?"

Rin nodded. "Wondering if she could stay with us."

"Of course of course," Lenka said, clapping her hands together. "Happy to have more friends around here."

Rin looked away.

"Uhh Mum," Len said.

"Yes?"

"I'm gay."

Oliver threw his head down and covered his mouth. He tried not to laugh but a few giggles escaped. Oliver peeked up and was thankful to see that nobody was watching him. In fact Miku and Rin had been doing the same, and Lenka was just staring at Len blankly. _What was that?_ Oliver would have to ask Len later. _What was THAT?_

"Gay?"

Len nodded, then gulped.

"Well..." she exhaled.

Oliver watched her hand move up and down, then her eyelids close and open. Her lips quivered as if she was chanting something to herself, and her gaze was directed at nobody in particular.

"Uhh... Mum?"

She looked at Len. "Sorry dear, was just thinking about Dad."

Len nodded. "So... you're okay with it?"

"Of course," she said. "Len's done weirder things. But—don't understand how Dad will take it."

Len nodded and smiled. Then Oliver grabbed Len's arm and squeezed it. Hard. Len chuckled a little and 'ow'ed but Oliver felt he deserved it one hundred percent.

Afterwards, Rin came out, but Mum wasn't as surprised. "Can tell Len was doing it for you," she said, and that flustered Rin.

Oliver watched the conversation continue through the night. He hopped in every now and then but mostly he was just happy to see Len laugh and talk, and his family laughing, spending time together. Oliver was happy for Len. It warmed him on the outside. But still an indescribable kernel grew within his heart—like ice, hard and cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ※ This chapter was an absolute pain to write  
> And even now I still think it's pretty bad. Skdmskekdkwdowksmc
> 
> Oh yeah look out for the next one  
> It'll be umm  
> you'll see :)


	30. Chapter 30

The shower-streams poked on Oliver's back, and the water felt chillingly hot on his skin. Oliver let his hand rub through his arm, his chest, his neck, where he closed it to a fist. He could feel the heat seeping through, yet deep inside there was still this cold emptiness he couldn't quite reach.

Oliver let his hand run down, and stroke his half-erect member. He let out a soft moan and then let his hand return to his neck. It would be a lie to say Oliver wasn't excited. He was. But he was also scared. This would be their first, and Oliver wouldn't want to mess it up.

Suddenly as the shower surged the floor quaked. Oliver held his hand onto the wall but before he could secure himself the tremor had stopped. In the next few moments, the shower grew silent.

Oliver wondered what it was, then he thought about where it came from, but after a while, he just shook his head and turned off the tap. Oliver came out of the cubicle and stepped onto the mat, grabbing his towel then looking up as he dried himself. The edges of the mirrors were fogged, and the puffs of steam were swirling and eddying, filtering the light like thin mist.

Safe, but lonely.

Oliver ruffled his hair with the towel again before returning it to the hanger. He looked at the door, down, then to the mirror. He looked at his red eye, then to his yellow. Then he looked at them both.

He felt the cold creep in again. Shivers. And as the anxiety snaked back in he looked away. Not because he saw himself ugly; he knew he was at least somewhat attractive, but he still couldn't bear to watch himself.

When it finally disappeared, Oliver looked back the at the door. He reached for it, and when his hand touched the handle, he turned it open. He walked to the edge and looked in, and saw Len sitting on his bed, already topless. Then a tingle—cold—as convection blew from behind.

Oliver stepped in, and with his first step he realised the room had been warmed. The floor was heated and the air was just right.

Len noticed Oliver. He had this light pink plush on his cheeks as he looked away, and Oliver found that adorable. Oliver closed the door and the room turned twilight.

_Argh._

Oliver approached him. Len looked at Oliver and looked away, and Oliver could see Len fiddling his hands on the bed, like he was nervous.

Oliver sat beside him, and Len shifted away to give him more space, and he moved his hand away to his thigh then back.

_Does he—Does he—not want this after all?_

Oliver decided to break the ice. "Len..."

He jumped a little, and peeked at Oliver before looking back away.

_Who knew someone like Len would be this shy._

"Oli... I'm..."

Oliver waited.

Len blushed, and spread his legs slightly, letting his bulge gain shape through his shorts.

Oliver took it as a sign he was ready and placed his hand on it. He rubbed it lightly with his thumb, and looked to Len, already panting.

"Ah~n—Oliver."

"Len," Oliver said, and looked into his eyes.

Len nodded, and with that Oliver snaked his hand under. Len was already hard, and choked by the tight boxers he was wearing.

Slowly, as Len leaned back, Oliver peeled the piece of clothing off, and his dick immediately bounced up. He was fully hard, and his tip, only barely covered at all, was glistening with pre-cum. And he was a good six inches too, with a healthy shape; it made Oliver hungry.

"Len," Oliver said again. _You're beautiful._

Len looked down, and smiled. He then shifted his hip slightly, and thrusted it slightly forward to give Oliver a better look. Though he was still shackled by the pants down his legs.

Oliver felt his erection starting to hurt. He moved it beside Len's and compared it. Len saw the difference and made a disappointed smile. "You're bigger than me," he said.

"Only by an inch," Oliver replied, "Besides, I like yours just the way it is. It looks perfect on you."

Len blushed.

Oliver felt Len's dick with his fingers, slowly, caressing its smooth skin; then he wrapped his palm around him, his thumb slowly stroking over the shaft. Len leaned his head back and moaned, "hah-aah, Oliver."

Oliver stopped, but kept his hand on, and waited. Len returned, and looked at him. His eyes sparkled. You could tell he wanted more. Then Oliver, with his other hand, tugged on Len's arm, and pulled it towards his dick.

Len was shy at first, but then he touched it—and oh how good it felt—and slowly he felt his fingers around it. Oliver loved this—he loved feeling Len roam around with curiosity, loved feeling Len's lust for him.

"Oh, Len."

He looked up, and their eyes connected. Oliver pushed his hip forward, and quickly Len searched around again, stroking gently—Oliver loved how powerless he felt with Len curled around his dick, and how he knew he could make Len feel the same way with just a jerk of his hand.

Slowly, Len found his way to Oliver's tip, and he was hesitant to touch it, but he was adventurous enough to stroke it through Oliver's foreskin. Oliver thrusted his dick forward and moaned, and tried to control himself but he was losing—all he could think was Len, and more—harder—

Oliver clenched his grip on Len's dick and began stroking. Immediately Len squealed, took his hand back onto the bed and arched his back; he spread his legs, and he moaned, moaned uncontrollably, shouting Oliver's name.

Oliver pumped faster, and he watched Len's face, messed up, drooling, his eyes rolled up. He tried to cover his mouth but the squeaking—the hitched panting kept coming. Len was completely powerless, Oliver knew this, and savoured it. He is the one giving Len all this pleasure; he is the one turning Len into this mess of lust—lust and moaning and struggling left and right. With his other hand Oliver directed his tip and let it touch Len's belly. Len jerked and moaned right after—"I'm cumming, Oliv-aah-er, I'm cum-ah." Then as Len's noises paused at a peak, a tremble, and stream of thick white liquid shot up, and Len groaned, as he spouted another two streams, sputtering on his chest and tummy.

Len panted, and panted as he tried to wipe his drool on the bed, then he closed his eyes. Oliver watched this, watched his boyfriend, covered in his own cum, savour the pleasure Oliver had given him. His calm, satisfied face. The rise and fall of his chest. And his dick, throbbing, tucking back in, for comfort.

After a few seconds, Len looked up. His eyes were watery and clear, and his pupils were dilated, cute.

Oliver shifted closer, and Len placed his hand on Oliver's dick again.

"Your turn," he said, smiling, and Oliver could only brace.

Len started slowly, and Oliver moaned and let his knees weaken. He fell back, and then spread his legs, made himself vulnerable.

Len slowly took up speed, and gradually Oliver's vision clouded. His hearing muffled, and all he could feel was Len's hand, Len's smooth hand on his dick—Len pumping him, hammering his base, and stroking his length, rubbing his tip, pressing, pressing, stroking—jerking—

"Nnghmha, Len," Oliver moaned, leaning, arching, supporting himself with only his hands as Len continued, continued—he couldn't stop anymore and as his dick started to numb he could feel it closer, closer, as the tension built up more and more— _More!—More!_

"Aaah-mm," Building up Oliver could feel it—in his hips, as if he was about to burst—he couldn't hold it back anymore, couldn't stop it anymore—"Len-ah—i'm—hmm~hah—cumm-ah"

Oliver felt a slight tug as Len pulled his erection down and Oliver moaned from the shock—and as the tension peaked, leaked, his dick throbbed, and lust—thick, streamed, shot out—and another throb another stream—

_Len—Len—fuck._

Oliver looked down, looked at his cock as it beat again, dripping the last of his seed onto Len's hand. Then he looked at Len, his face covered in sticky white cum—his cum. Oliver could almost feel horny again, but he was too tired for it. For now he just wanted to sleep with Len. Len.

Len let go of Oliver's dick, pearly white liquid dripping down its edge. Len took his hand to his mouth and licked it, and immediately his face lit up.

"This is what I did it for," he said, giggling slightly, "I love it! it's so—" he trailed off before taking some of the cum on his face and licking it up.

"Len," Oliver said, leaning forward, "Len,"

Len savoured the taste, closed his eyes for a second and smiled.

Oliver smiled back, then he looked at Len's abdomen, his release still all over his body, though some of it had turned clear and watery.

"Want to... taste it?" Len asked, shifting his body a bit closer.

"Of course," Oliver replied, leaning forward. "You're—okay with this right?"

Len nodded.

Oliver leaned in, positioned his mouth just before a patch of Len's cum, and licked it up. Slightly salty, with a mellow chloriney smell, a bit sweet and—and it was just nice—it tasted like, like——

Oliver licked up all the cum from Len's body, earning a couple 'hmm's and 'hunn's from his lover, and savoured it all. He closed his eyes and let the flavour permeate his mouth, let every inch of his mouth drench, soak in Len's goodness. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Len, who seemed a bit pleased.

"I didn't know if you were going to like it," Len said.

"I love it!" Oliver replied, still not gulping it down, "Now I'm dying to taste it fresh," he said.

Len blushed, "your fault for being so horny."

Oliver laughed. "Yeah," he said, "but it's also your fault for being horny first."

For a moment, they were silent, and their gazes connected again. Then Oliver lifted the blanket from beside Len, and laid himself down, covering them both from the neck down.

"Eugh I can smell my cum on your face," Oliver said.

Len laughed, "it's great."

"The only thing that makes it tolerable is that it's on your face," Oliver said, "pretty hot—but otherwise I'd flush it down the drain."

Len mocked disbelief, "Have you ever tasted it?"

"Once."

"No way," Len said, "It tastes so good."

Oliver blushed. "Yours tastes way better."

"No way."

"Yeah. And I'm a vampire, I have more experience."

Len tried to cover his face with a blanket. "Experience?"

"Tasting cum duh."

"Ollie!"

"Love you."

"Oliver!"

Oliver giggled, and slowly tugged the part of the blanket between them away. Len was red—it was clear he hadn't had too much experience talking about sex.

"You're okay with this right?" Len asked softly, "I don't have to clean up or anything?"

"No," Oliver scoffed, and smirked, "I don't mind. Why?"

"I—want to sleep like this."

"You're still horny?"

Len shook his head, "well, maybe a little, but I—I—"

"I get it," Oliver said, "I feel the same way. Come on." Oliver wrapped his arms around Len, and Oliver pulled them together. Their lips met, and every part of their body touched each other. Chest on chest, dick on dick, feet on feet. Len's chest was still damp, and their members were still wet. As they rubbed Oliver could feel the remnants of their lust mix together. And their feet, tickling touching, Len held back a laughter through the kiss, and that almost made Oliver laugh too. And then Len's hand reached Oliver's back, and he could feel his soft hand caressing him slowly. Oliver made sure to do the same.

Oliver pulled his head away and as Len opened his eyes he could see inside Len's eyes. Len's blue eyes. Oliver teasingly put his hand on Len's behind, and pressed their parts together, and that made Len moan, laugh, and punch him on the back.

"Ow," Oliver laughed, and Len pulled his hip back.

"You're going to make me horny again."

Oliver rubbed the spot Len hit him. "Maybe that's what I want?"

They laughed together for a while, and slowly, as it became comfortably warm under the blanket, their laughs drowned out, and they connected their hands, watched each other. Len looked stellar, Oliver thought, even with, no, especially with his hair all messy like that.

Finally, "Oliver," Len said.

"Hm?" Oliver replied.

"—I love you."

Oliver took a moment to process the words. Then he snuggled closer, and hugging tightly, he buried his face in Len's shoulder.

"I love you too, Len."

_Forever_

_Forever_


	31. Chapter 31

The walls were charred sporadically, and the edges of the building had crumbled down. Many of the windows were shattered, and those intact were hazed in black soot. And even though it wasn't there, Len could almost see the smoke puffing out the holes of the building, like a firebeast panting its final breaths after sustaining a fatal wound.

"What happened here?" Len asked, "Burned down?"

"Probably," Oliver answered.

"Couldn't everyone fight it with magic?"

"Not if the fire was also magic," Oliver said, and scanned the building again. He tapped his feet on the ground and bit the edge of his lip, "I think we know who did this."

"Hn—Is also a fire user?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, he's wood, but he's good enough to do this."

Unsatisfied, Len watched the building again, and then he noticed: one window, in the midst, intact and clear. In the back of his mind a suspicion nagged at him, and after counting the number of floors, he became sure.

"Should we check our room?" Len asked.

Oliver made out a noise but hesitated to answer. "It might be dangerous."

"What else can we do?"

Oliver kept silent, and fiddled with his fingers. Then, after a while, he let out a sigh. "Fine, but we'll have to be careful. Any sign of danger and we leave, understood?"

Len nodded, "Nhn."

They walked in.

The lobby was empty. All the lights were out. And the floor was shattered. As though there had been an explosion. Len took a deep breath and listened, listened closely——nothing but silence. Then he glanced at Oliver. "Go?"

Oliver didn't reply. He took a step forward, and Len followed beside. They tip-ran their way up the stairs to their room's floor, but when they entered the hallway, something felt off.

Len didn't know what it was, but a quiet murmuring sound did come from somewhere.

Oliver held his arm out to his side and walked forward. Len tiptoed behind him. And as they neared the door to their room, the sound became clearer. The sound of two people speaking, discussing... about something.

Len sidled up to the wall, and stuck his ear barely away. Their voices became discernible. Something about him. Something about him and Oliver.

Oliver stopped, glanced back, and cocked his head. Len walked to him, and tilted his head a little.

"what's it about?"

"us... something about us..."

Oliver nodded. "is it good?"

"i don't know. do we get closer?"

Oliver bit his lip, and looked down. Then he nodded.

Len pulled his foot up on the ground and pushed it forward, positioning it back-sole first, then slowly lowering it, careful not to make any noise. He took another step. And another. Then as he reached just beside the door, he stuck his ear by the gap.

"...kids. It's not safe."

"..."

"I'm telling you they would have died if—"

"And they didn't."

"Yeah, because I was there."

"..."

"Agh—you know he—"

...

Their voices stopped. Then step, steps, louder, and when Len realised what was going on the door swung open. Len jumped back, and looked at them. Ryuto, and the blue-haired-guy from yesterday—Kaito.

"You two," Kaito said.

Oliver stepped forward. "What happened here?"

"Someone set off a bomb. We don't know who did it though."

Oliver watched him. "Why are you two in our room?"

Kaito sighed. And Ryuto walked forward. "Here," he said, handing two badges, with a distinct number written on each of them. "With these you'll be able to access public, and some private services for free, and more easily."

Kaito said, "You say that but we _are_ going to have to pay for them."

"Don't mind him."

Kaito sighed, and Ryuto stepped forward, placing the badges on Len's hand.

"You two might want to leave this place soon," he said, waving his hand before disappearing.

"What does he mean, by that?" Len asked.

"Nothing. Just, he wants you two to move out somewhere on your own," he said, walking away.

Len entered the room. The walls were brown-black, and the floor covered in black and white debris. Their beds were charcoal, and the table that separated them had turned to ash. Len's suitcase, standing in the middle of the mess, was charred and had a large hole on the edge. Through it, the contents, his clothes and books, were all burned down.

Oliver's wasn't any better. He had only brought his school backpack, which was now just a pile of dust and dull metal things. He didn't seem too sad about it though, so Len focused on his own.

"Len."

Len nodded.

"Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ※ Eh. I would've liked to edit this more but ig time's up.  
> As always, please tell me what you think about it ^^


	32. Chapter 32

This was... the second time Oliver tried riding a plane, and honestly, it felt like he'd never get used to it. The narrow seats, the high-pitch drone of the engine, that god-forsaken clog in your ear—if it weren't for Len beside him, he'd bust out and jump into the ocean. At least there the sand would be able to help him.

Though, being in the window seat did make it a bit more bearable. Now, he didn't need to rub shoulders with some random stranger, who, with his luck, would annoy him one way or the other. For that he was grateful, but still—

Oliver yawned and put his hand on the armrest. He looked at Len, who focused on the screen in front of him. A game, it looked like, with letters and squares—kind of like a weird crossword puzzle.

"Le~n," Oliver whined, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt.

"Huh?" He blinked, looked at Oliver. "Anything wrong?"

Oliver just frowned, and Len responded with a small chuckle.

"Want to play too?"

Oliver looked at the screen again. "Not really."

"Come on, Ollie. Plane rides aren't supposed to be very fun."

"Would it kill them to soundproof the interior?"

"Well," Len turned his head, "not like we can change it now..."

Oliver sighed, and turned to the window. He watched the puffs of cotton peppering the smooth ocean view, the empty waters. And as the engine kept buzzing on and on he wondered if he had said too much to Len.

Then a touch on his shoulder. Oliver turned back to see Len holding two foil-boxes, and smiling.

Oliver returned to the window. "I'll eat them later, when we land."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Yeah," Oliver said, looking down, "but I'd rather be able to taste something."

"Economy-class food doesn't taste good either way," Len said, pulling down his tray-table. "We can get something better to eat when we land. Here."

Oliver took his portion carefully in his hand, and gazed at his dull reflection. "Fine."

As expected, the food wasn't that great. Bland chicken sausage and rice. But it's free food, and apparently the other choice was just as bad so Oliver decided not to complain.

When they were done eating, Len stacked the boxes together and placed them at the edge of his tray. Then he took his headphones off his shoulders and handed it to Oliver.

Oliver stared at it blankly.

"Here," he said, handing it closer, "maybe you can block some of the noise out with music."

Oliver nodded.

"Let's see what they have," Len said, as he pressed some buttons on the screen-gadget.

Oliver leaned in and looked at the collection. There were a lot of pop songs he had heard of, and some had covers of people dressed in weird flashy outfits. As Len scrolled down, a cover caught Oliver's eye.

"Wait. Stop."

Pink background, colourful, and in the middle, Rin with her hands up in the air. Oliver looked at the title. He couldn't read most of it, of course, but he did recognise Len's family name. 鏡音. Even though he knew Len's family were all singers, seeing them there made it feel so surreal.

"Len," Oliver raised. He just had to know.

"Hm?"

"Have you—featured in any songs?"

Len opened his mouth, then looked away.

"You have, haven't you?"

"Well," Len turned back, but avoided Oliver's gaze, "once. But—a long time ago. And—only because—I was forced to."

Oliver frowned.

"Yo-You can listen to it if you want to," Len stuttered out. "It's just that—"

The plane grumbled.

Oliver snapped to the source but nothing was there. The cabin turned silent. Oliver waited. One second. Two. Then a shock and everything became weightless. Screams. On his right arm a hand held tight. Len. And as Oliver tried to hold him back the pressure in his head threatened to blow. Like the screams, the sputtering blood—the crash, fire, death—it burned in his mind as nails clawed into him—pain—

Oliver shook his head—his imagination's hell—and looked out of the window. Land, a clearing of a forest. Then a hand reached into his bandages and ripped them off. The world shrunk. And bracing, bracing for that crash, he tried to reach for Len but his hand wouldn't move as he wanted. He closed his eye and waited for that impact, and as the plane creaked and cracked and as the wings snapped Oliver slung onto the seat in front of him.

**＊＊＊**

Consciousness returning, Oliver opened his eyes. The cabin was dark, except for the light streaming through the large rip on the side. He looked around. Bodies were slumped all over the place, unconscious. And outside the window were large vines, stalks, greens, hugging tightly the metal body.

"Nngh," Len groaned from behind.

Oliver turned to look at him as he tried to balance himself atop the tilted chairs.

"You okay?" Oliver asked, offering a hand.

Len took it and held it tight. "Mostly," he said, looking around. "What should we do now?"

Oliver looked around, then settled his gaze on the plane's opening. If they were to stay, they might get help from a search and rescue party. But that'd make it harder to stay low. They'd be bombarded with government agencies and staff and before long, Yohio would find out.

 _And_ _thanks to those badges,_ _we didn't_ _need_ _a ticket to get on; so_ _if we leave, they probably won't be able to report on us._

Oliver stood up. "We should go."

"Where?" asked Len.

Oliver walked onto the aisle. "Anywhere," he said, "We just need to get out of here."

Len nodded and followed him.

Oliver made his way past the scatter of unconscious bodies. The steep down-slant made it a challenge, but with a bit of hopping around he got through to the exit.

Oliver paused, and watched as Len approached behind him. The forest was just a bit away, and to the right horizon, a lush mountain towered its way up to the clouds, its peak sprinkled with white of snow. In the distance, among the trees, there stood lumps of brown and grey, like—

"A town?" Len asked.

"Probably," Oliver replied. He hopped off and latched onto one of the stalks, sliding down with the friction from his jacket. And when his feet hit the ground, the wash of relief.

He was about to lay down on the grass but then he noticed. He waited for a moment but Len never came. Oliver looked up; and Len was still up there, on the plane.

"Come on. Come down," Oliver shouted.

But Len didn't move. He seemed hesitant.

"If you fall I'll catch you."

Even from that distance Oliver could see the tint of red forming on Len's face as he nodded. Len hopped off the platform and grabbed onto the stalk-pole tight. Then as he skipped down his arms flinched out. Fell aback,

"aAa Oliver!"

Oliver scuttled to where Len would land and held his arms out. And as Len reached him hard whacked his head. His cheek. Len's arm. And as solid rubber landed on Oliver's arm a thud crash splat—every bone in his body screamed like they'd been shattered—and the pain, the pain creeped up his spine and into his head, splitting his brain, squeezing blood—

"Owwrw," Len groaned as that bloodstopping weight loosened up.

Oliver tried to get up but as soon as he raised his head the world spun around, spun like he was drunk on blood. He held his hand to his head and stayed still, but it still felt like the world was throwing him left right up down.

"Ollie, you okay?"

Oliver nodded but when he stopped his head a shock jolted through his body.

"Take it easy."

Oliver opened his eyes. Len was there above him with a frown, a guilty frown. And his eyes glinted with concern. Oliver shifted his weight and pushed himself up. His head clenched and his ears rang but after a while the pain started to subside.

"Sorry," Len said, "Sorry. I—" he sucked his bottom lip and averted his gaze.

"It's fine," Oliver said, standing up, "I'm fine."

"But—" Len clenched his hands, "I—"

Oliver took his hand, but said nothing. He stayed silent and watched Len as he shook his head, shook it so hard his ponytail threatened to set free. After a moment, Len looked at Oliver, and Oliver met him with a smile. But Len still frowned.

Oliver waited. But as soon as it was clear Len would stay there for a while, Oliver tugged his arm. "Come on," he said, "we need to get going, before anyone sees us."

Len nodded weakly, and Oliver led them into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ※ What do you think? I really feel like I've been getting worse lately, but I want to know how y'all feel about it. How does it compare with previous chapters? Or my other stuff?


	33. Chapter 33

Walking through the forest had been hard for Len. He's had to walk long distances before, back when his family went on a trip to a tropical island. But having to climb up and down trunks and hills and rocks—well the aching pain in his legs told enough.

In the end, though, they were finally able to arrive in town. It was a small town, maybe fifteen, twenty houses, and a couple of shops here and there. Regardless, there were quite a lot of people walking about, some carrying baskets of produce, and some with phones in their hands, wearing nice clothes.

"Staying here?" Len asked.

Oliver looked around. "Most likely," he said, "We can't leave without knowing how far away the next town might be."

Len nodded, but Oliver wasn't paying attention to him, so he looked back to the crowd of people. Sure, Oliver was right; they can't risk getting lost in the forest again. Having lived in the cities for most of their lives, they had no idea which fruits were edible, or how to get water when it isn't raining, or how not to get eaten while asleep. But living in a small town didn't seem easy either.

"Where do we stay?"

Oliver took Len's hand, and tugged at him as he took a step forward. "These tourists need to stay somewhere. A motel, or an inn, maybe. Even if they're staying somewhere else that'd still mean there's somewhere close we can go to."

"Mmm." Len said, and looked around. He was about to lift his feet but claws crashed on his shoulders. He jumped. And fur slid on his neck making him shiver and cringe. It grabbed his headphones. It pulled it off his neck and hopped off. Len grabbed onto air—and the squirrel ran off into town.

Running after it, Len shouted, "Give it back!" The squirrel looked back, and let a tongue out as it manoeuvred through the jungle of legs. Len tightened his fists, and with each step he pushed his legs as hard as he could—as fast as he could—but the squirrel kept getting farther and farther.

"Len," Oliver shouted from behind. "Wait!"

For what? Len really needed to get his treasure back. And Oliver was perfectly capable of doing anything himself.

He continued: chasing, panting, following the squirrel until finally they reached out of town. It ran into the forest, and Len followed in.

"Wait," Oliver shouted again. But Len didn't listen.

Len ran and ran until they reached the base of the mountain. Two guards stood in front of a gate, and the squirrel darted straight past them. But when Len reached the gate the guards pulled out their swords,

"No trespassing," they said.

"But—"

"No trespassing."

"Why?"

"Len!" Oliver called from behind, huffing as he trudged. Len faced him, looked at his worried expression and felt guilt... even though he didn't know what he did wrong.

"Is...?"

"You were so rash," Oliver said, taking Len's hand. "It could've been a trap."

"The squirrel?"

"It's possible. Controlling animals isn't that hard. Revilo could do it."

"Sorry," Len said, looking down, "I didn't mean to—"

But he was cut off by a hug. Oliver wrapped his arms around him, and planted his face onto Len's shoulder, pressing, pressing tightly. Len returned the hug, and closed his eyes. Just the feeling of Oliver's cheek on his, soft, and smooth—Len let his hand caress Oliver's back; running on the back of his shirt, the firmness of his body, and through that thin layer—Oliver's shape, the curve of his spine.

Oliver hummed and returned the gesture, nuzzling Len then down, kissing the base of his neck. Len stiffened, and Oliver pulled away.

_Aaaaah!_

"It's been a while since we last hugged, huh?" Oliver said.

Len replied, "yeah," and looked down, blushed, "mmm..."

"Hmm?"

"But, I'm—still worried about..."

Oliver looked down.

"It got away before you caught up," Len said, then pointed towards the gate, "Went through there, but they won't let me pass."

"Len. I told you. This might be a trap. You saw how the squirrel was baiting you."

"But I still need to get my headphones back. They're—"

"Look, we'll get it back," Oliver said, "but you're not going in there alone. I'll help you, okay?"

Len faced downwards, and nodded. Oliver took his hand again, and clasped it in his. It felt warm, safe, reassuring... but, what if they couldn't get it back. Then what? He can't just forget about it. It's his grandfather's gift. He can't just forget about it.

Oliver stepped forward. "Why won't you let us through?"

"This mountain is a sacred place. We cannot let anyone through."

"Well, what if we have this?" Oliver said, pulling out the Defender badge.

The guard looked at it, but his expression was steel. "We cannot let *anyone* through."

"But... animals can get through?" Oliver asked.

The guards stayed silent.

Oliver turned back. "Come on Len, let's go and find a place to stay."

Len nodded and took Oliver's hand, walking back into town.

**＊＊＊**

They found an inn, in the middle of town, where Oliver was able to get them a small room with their IDs. The walls, the floor were made of dark brown wood. And the bed, just below the window at the farther side, was just big enough to fit the two of them... if they hugged...

The thought of night approaching—last time he slept so close to Oliver, he had to suffer through a whole hour of his own thoughts. Granted, there was that one time when he fell asleep instantly, but that doesn't happen too often. And what if he needed to go the bathroom late at night? As much as he loved cuddling Oliver, his night hugs are really tight, and waking him up is the last thing Len wanted to do.

_Should I—just get another room?_

"Len," Oliver said, sitting on the corner of the bed.

Len walked up to Oliver and sat beside him.

Oliver put a finger out the entrance of his pocket and whistled a light tune. Chirping came from inside, and James jumped out.

"We need your help again."

James pecked Oliver's finger, causing him to flinch and squeal. Len held in a laugh, and held his finger out for James to perch on.

"I get it. But we're not exactly in the best situation right now. Besides, isn't flying outside better than staying in my pocket all day?"

James preened his feathers, swooped back into Oliver's pocket, and let out a rebellious tweet.

"It's for Len," Oliver said, and James popped his head out of the pocket again.

"He lost his headset, and we need to get it back."

James flew out of Oliver's pocket and stood on the window.

Len said, "It's in the forest. On the mountain. Some squirrel took it."

Oliver closed his left eye. "Let's go," and James took off.

Oliver looked focused. His brows were arched down, and his other hand, on his thigh, was tightened to a fist. Len moved to look at Oliver's red eye. Can he see from it? Or only Revilo?

Seeing Oliver so determined to get his memento back, Len couldn't help but to want to do something. But what can he do? He has no James to look through, and those guards would never let him pass.

Len shifted closer to Oliver, and placed his hand on the clenched fist. Through his skin Oliver's muscles loosened up, and Len took Oliver's hand and held it tight.

As Oliver returned the gesture, the room dissolved, and the image of a forest faded in. The forest. James looked down, and Len saw them—the walls and the guards. They were in.

The whole mountain was lush with nature, even more so than the forest. Trees were covered in vines. Rocks were covered in moss. And the pristine river flowed with fishes and submerged greens, leaning with the current. Out the trees, the rocks, animals hopped out. Squirrels and deers and a pack of wolves. Sadly, none of them had his treasure.

Then, as James reached the summit, the animals grew scarce. Patches of snow here and there and the river was covered in a blanket of ice. The leaves on the trees grew thin. James perched on one, and looked around. On the edge, a silver-white metal, like the edges of his—Black. Black.

Oliver uncovered his eye, and looked down with a pinched lip.

 _Did James—?_ "What—"

"Something caught him."

"Is he—"

"He's still alive. I can feel it," Oliver said, hammered his thigh, "but we need to get him."

Len nodded. "But—so it is a trap." He felt stupid. Like he caused all this to happen.

Oliver slowly nodded. "But now we know. We can prepare for it."

"Then, what do we do?"

Oliver looked away, out of the window. "First, we need to think of a way to get past the guards."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ※ As always, feedback would be appreciated ^^


	34. Chapter 34

As the morning touched the patchy dirt path, a little boy stood before the gate, while the guards, with stoic expressions, shook their feet. Revilo watched from behind the bush; he moved his fingers, and the boy stepped forward, threatening to enter.

The guards assumed a stance. But as Revilo made the boy giggle, their footholds became shaky, and they looked at each other for support. In the opening Revilo pushed the boy forward. And as the boy dodged the guards' clutches, he ran in.

"Wait! You're not supposed to go in there," a guard said, as they both ran after him.

Len muffled a laugh from beside. "Nice job."

"Thanks," Revilo said, smiling.

Then he closed his eyes, and slowly Oliver could feel himself returning to his body. The soft bed of grass underfoot and the scratchy branches. The cold spring air settled around him as he opened his eyes.

"See," Len said, "not having your bandages isn't so bad. Makes turning to Revilo and back easier, right?"

Oliver looked away, and nodded. "Yeah, but let's keep the conversation for later," he said as he stood up, "we need to get in there before they return."

Len stood up, and together, they ran into the mountain area.

**＊＊＊**

While walking, Oliver looked at Len. He was focused, and he kept looking left and right. But that wonder wasn't there; his eyes were narrowed and his lips were sealed. Oliver didn't really want to disturb him, but it just didn't feel right to keep silent either.

"Len, you alright?"

Len looked around before answering. "Yeah. Fine," he said.

"You don't seem fine."

"I'm just." Len took a few steps in advance and faced away. "I'm just being careful."

 _Wow, Len being careful!_ Oliver thought.

Revilo definitely chuckled in there too.

"Why aren't you being careful?" Len asked, "you're usually the one worrying about stuff."

"I am worried," Oliver answered, "but you might waste too much energy by being too agitated."

_And judging by how stiff your movements are..._

Len sighed, and stopped. He looked down, at his shoes, then he looked to the bushes. Len frowned and shook his head.

"Calm down."

Len bit the edge of his lip and squeezed his eyes. "Can't. I can't," he strained his voice. "I'm not used to this. I don't know what to do."

"How about we take a little rest?"

"In here?"

Oliver nodded. "As long as we don't draw attention, I don't think they'll be able to find us. Pretty big mountain."

Len exhaled, and dropped down to sit.

Oliver waited before following. He let his gaze settle on Len, and frowned. Seeing him struggle like this, he didn't like it at all. He's so used to the carefree, straight-ahead Len——maybe it's because Oliver himself isn't good at dealing with these emotions, that he finds a boyfriend like Len attractive? But that still doesn't make any sense.

"Oliver," Len said, looking up, "you okay?"

*Even when he's caught up in his own mess, he still made time to make sure I was okay.*

"Mhm," Oliver answered, "yeah. I'm okay," sitting down beside Len.

Len was back in his own thoughts. He frowned, biting and releasing his lip every other second.

"Len," Oliver said, and it took his attention, "it's going to be alright."

Len strained a smile, but the frown took over in an instant. "How do you know that?"

...

"I just have a feeling it's going to be alright," Oliver said.

"Feeling huh?"

_Is it working?_

Len chuckled, "I guess..." but then he frowned again. And he smiled again. "I guess—I've just been trying to stop feeling so much."

Oliver tilted his head.

Len looked away. "Acting rash, it's always gotten us into trouble. And you're the one who always gets us out of it. Like yesterday. If it weren't for me—if it weren't for me we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Len." Oliver wrapped an arm around Len's shoulder. He wanted to say something, but... nothing came to him. He knew what he wanted to convey: he didn't want Len to be too harsh on himself—but still what should he say? Nothing sounded right.

Len curled up, hid his face, and leaned closer to Oliver.

"It's—" — _It's?_ —"It's not only brought us trouble."

"..."

_Okay. Not working?_

"For example—we wouldn't have rescued Rin if it weren't for your instinct."

"And I put both of us in danger."

Oliver frowned too, and shifted closer to Len, removing any space between them. Maybe it's better to keep quiet for now. Give Len a bit of time to think about things—that might help.

"Len... I'm here for you."

He closed his eyes.

**＊＊＊**

Oliver stood, and took another deep breath. Beside, Len was just as nervous. The cliff was steep, and pretty tall too; there were ledges and protruding rocks here and there, but Oliver had never climbed cliffs before.

So he stepped forward, and placed his hands on the rocky wall. He closed his eyes, and focused, felt the dirt, the sand, the stones, the little crystals—then he searched for the energy, the flowing river, and when he found one, there, wavering—

"Oliver, wait."

Oliver's eyes shot open, and he looked back. Len stood there, with a determined expression, stretching his fingers.

"I think we should climb it."

"What?!"

"I don't know," he said, looked away, "Just—felt like we should do it."

Silence for the first few blinks, but then Oliver smiled. *Now that's more like Len.*

Len looked back, and seeing Oliver's reaction, he lit up. Then he tried to hide his excitement by looking away, but his smile was still there on his face.

"Come on," Oliver said, turning back to the cliff to grab a firm rock. Then when his grip was set, he lodged his foot into a small crevice, and he pushed himself up. When Oliver had climbed halfway up, he looked down at Len, just below him.

But then a sudden pound, and a dark cloud crept into his vision, his mind. Oliver lost his foothold, and slipped, and hung unto a rock with his hands, as the pain seeped from his heart into his skull—like some sort of poison. A hold on his foot. Len. Raised to somewhere he could grab.

Oliver pushed himself back up, tightened his hand grips and rested his forehead on a rock—waiting, wishing for it to go away... but it didn't—it just lingered there.

"Oliver," Len said. But the voice was muffled and he could barely hear the rest.

Oliver's eyes became heavy. His arms became thin, and his head still a boulder—he tried to hold on tight but he could feel his hands slipping—slipping—

_If I fall... will I survive?_

_But Len. Len. What is he doing?_

Hair. A head pushed his arm outward and warmth appeared between his arms. A whisper, "Oliver," and a hand guided his arm around the warm body.

"Hold on tight," the voice said,

Oliver clutched on it, as it bounced slowly up and down—jerked forward, back, groaned. His arms were slipping on the clothes—they were hurting, weakening—but he still held on—he had to hold on.

Finally the bouncing stopped, and Oliver peeked down—solid ground so near...

A hand held Oliver's arm, tight, and another secured him on his back. Then Len trudged forward—the ground turned darker and darker, and Len turned around, and laid him down, his head on a rock—a soft pillow.

Oliver looked straight up. The grey void of rocks, and the stalactites staring into him like predator eyes—like his brother's eyes—threatening at any moment to fall, to pierce into him and break him and make him do those things he hated most—

Len walked into view, and looked down with a concerned frown, holding in his hand a large leaf. His eyes were crystal, and its shine fought those thoughts—and the edges of his skin glowed... maybe it was from the light outside... or maybe it was just his headache... whatever it was, Len was like, no, he was—an angel.

Everything else fuzzed out.

"Here," he said, "Got some water for you."

Oliver opened his mouth, and let his tongue out slightly to taste the water—sweet—Len pushed the bowl closer, and Oliver drank the water, gulp by gulp.

The pain didn't get any better though.

Len lifted Oliver's head, and transferred it over to his thigh. And as his eyes drooped heavily, Oliver took Len's warm hand and closed his eyes.


	35. Chapter 35

Len panted as he climbed up the ledge. And as he set his head above the ground, a metal arch stood between some bushes. Len stared at it for while. What's that doing there?

"Oliver," he called, cocking his head up.

Oliver looked at him, and rushed climbing up. And as he pushed himself up, he squinted at the manmade thing.

"You think that's where they are?"

Len nodded.

Oliver looked back at it, and arched his brows to a sharp stare, while Len pushed himself up.

"Wait. We can't just walk in."

"Why not?" a boy's voice replied.

Len snapped his head to the arch. A boy stood in it. A boy their age, with dark blue hair, like Oliver's coat, and his eyes were blue. He held out his hand—the silvery curve, the golden yellow markings—his headphones.

"You can have it back," he said, and tossed it to Len.

Len caught it and held it in his hand, and smiled. He was honestly expecting more of a fight to get it back. But he wasn't about to complain.

"Then, is James?"

"Your bird?" the boy asked, "He's safe. He's back in my hut."

Hearing that, Oliver was relieved. His aura calmed down from when he had that dark burst, and from the side of his face, his lips curved up slightly.

Len asked, "But, then, why lure us here?"

"Let's just say, someone told me you were coming."

"Who?"

"Someone from your organisation," he said, turning his back. "Now, come with me." He walked through the arch.

Len glanced at Oliver, who nodded, and they both followed him in.

As they walked through, Len could see the area just past. A large meadow, and in the centre, a clear blue lake, with a wooden home floating atop. As far as Len could see, there was no bridge connecting it to land, and it was only held by a couple wooden poles...

"You live here?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's pretty peaceful up here, don't you think?"

Len looked around, and nodded his head.

Oliver asked, "Why did you bring us here?"

"Didn't I just tell you?" he said, "I'm going to help you prepare."

"Prepare?"

"For your fight against Yohio."

Len interrupted. "Fight? What? Fight?"

"It's inevitable," he explained, "You can't run away forever. And, Oliver, he's your brother. You won't be able to hide for long."

Len looked to Oliver, and waited for his reaction. Oliver bit his lip, looking down, he tapped his feet in thought. His eyes travelled left and right, and finally, he looked up.

"How do we know we can trust you?"

"Mm, well, if I wanted to capture you now it would be over in about two seconds," he smiled, "but ask me anything you want. I'll answer them."

"And how do we know you won't lie?"

He sighed. "You can use your magic on me. I'll lay my guard down," he said and sat down on the grass.

Oliver sat across him, on his knees, and as he stared, his hair washed black.

Revilo stared at him. "Who are you?"

The boy looked blankly at Revilo—his eyes empty. "My name is Moke Zhiyu, and I am a sixteen-year-old human born here in Henian Village."

"What do you want to do with us?"

"I want to help train you to prepare for your battle against your brother, and his followers,"

"What's in it for you?"

"Peace," he said, and then continued, "and well, a bit of company. It gets lonely up here—even though animals visit every day."

"Peace?" Revilo questioned.

"Yep. Your brother has been planning to take over the world, eradicate werewolves, and enslave humanity. He's assembling a group of seven, including himself, and they've been attacking human cities to cause chaos."

Len licked his upper lip and gulped. Yohio, Oliver's brother, his boyfriend's brother, wants to conquer the world? So, he's dating the brother of some world-domination-obsessed-lunatic?

Len looked to Moke, who sat there unchangingly, and then to Revilo, whose interrogating eyes struck into the oddly-knowledgable-sixteen-year-old-boy.

Revilo turned to Len for confirmation. Len nodded, and as Rev closed his eyes, Oliver returned to the body. Then they turned back to Moke, and watched him as he supported his head with his hand.

"So, will you?" Moke asked.

"We'll train with you."

**＊＊＊**

"Show me what you can do."

Len held his hands out, and focused, focused hard. He cleared his mind, and searched for the lines. And as he bent it towards him the energy flowed around his body. Then as he concentrated it on his hand, heat—a weak fire flickered on top of it.

Moke wasn't impressed.

Shame swirled around Len, and he wished it were real, so that he could cocoon in it and hide for eternity. But he had to face it. And so he forced his arms to rest by his side, and watch as Moke turned to Oliver.

Without even taking time to meditate, Oliver moved his hand and the earth rose in front of him, forming a jagged mound. And then as he pushed down, the earth returned flat.

"Not bad," Moke said, "but you two will have to work hard, if you want to stand a chance against your brother."

Len frowned. His lips were closed but inside his teeth gripped together. Not good enough—not good enough—the phrase dragged him down into the trench of his mind—he needs to get better—even after all that hard work—

Then a hand took Len's. Oliver. Len looked at him, and then looked away. And as his heart started to swell, the soft arms embraced him.

Oliver didn't speak. But he didn't need to. Just the feeling of being surrounded by his lover's arms—that was enough. Len held Oliver's hand, and, touch, he pulled away from the hug.

"We'll do it. You can do it, Len."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help
> 
> This chapter is so bad I can't-
> 
> Hhhhhh
> 
> Sorry lol, most of you are probably tired of me complaining about this
> 
> Welp see you next update (i hope)


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